Sold
by Marmalade Fever
Summary: Evander Malfoy stumbles onto a world where the Dark Lord is in power, Harry Potter is missing, and Draco Malfoy has just bought Hermione Granger, Evander's unsuspecting mother... in a manner of speaking. DMHG, SEQUEL to Courting Miss Granger, Pre-HBP
1. How the Winds are Laughing

Sold-Chapter 1- How the Winds are Laughing

By Marmalade Fever

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim Harry Potter, the work of J.K. Rowling. No profit is being made. Song lyrics are from Donna Donna by Donovan.

_A.N.: This is an AU sequel to Courting Miss Granger. Please read it in advance._

Draco Malfoy's lip curled as he surveyed the scene in front of him. It was absolutely disgusting, and thus wonderful. Hundreds of members of the Dark Arts community had gathered for the event. There were hags, Death-Eaters, you name it, they were there. His father had reserved him a place in the front row, from which to do his bidding. Excellent, he thought. This event had been in the back of the Dark Lord's mind for many years, and now that he was in power he could finally hold it. This was the great Mudblood Auction, and Draco knew exactly what, or more precisely who, he was going to bid on. Poor little Mudblood Granger had been caught five years ago, trying to rescue a family of muggles from persecution, and Draco had brought just enough galleons to buy her. Catching up with an old schoolmate, he called it. He laughed under his breath as he went to his seat, reclining leisurely in it.

The-Boy-Who-Lived had gone missing almost fifteen years ago, earning him the title of The-Boy-Who-Cowered. Dumbledore had... tragically... died during a siege of Hogwarts castle. Since that day the Dark Lord had successfully come to power. Muggles had almost completely been wiped out. Those remaining had not had their memories wiped, in the sniveling good side's attempt to keep them aware of the situation and hopefully out of harm's reach. Most members of the other side's alliance had gone into hiding. Draco didn't blame them. Just about any non-Dark Lord supporter was bound to be made an example of.

And as for the Mudbloods, well, here they were. Slavery had a nice ring to it.

A large Dark Mark formed in the sky, signaling the start of the auction. Draco sat in his chair like a wild cat about to spring onto its prey. Abner Ablestivner, one of the Dark Lord's school friends, stepped out onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentleman," he said slowly, peering at the audience filled with anything but ladies and gentleman, "I present to you, the first Mudblood up for sale. Bidding will start with no less than one-hundred galleons." He bowed and turned his head in the direction of a large cage that was pulled forward by two ugly mountain trolls. Draco smirked as a terrified looking Justin Finch-Fletchley was moved out of the shadows.

"One hundred!" an old crone cried. Draco noted that she was holding a book of illegal love potions… or was it a cook book?

"One-oh-vive!" a vampire with a thick Transylvanian accent screeched. The bidding ended at One hundred fifty galleons, sold to the old crone.

"Next specimen!" Abner cried, as the trolls pulled a second cage forward. A twelve year old girl peeked out through the bars, crying fitfully. She was sold to a man Draco knew to have children of his own. The girl was probably going to be forced to act as a playmate, which made her luckier than most. Draco began to grow bored as about fifty more of the filthy-blooded witches and wizards were sold. "Now, I give to you an especially feisty female," Abner announced, making Draco perk up. At long last the cage that held Hermione Granger was pulled forward, and there she was. Her bushy hair was matted and nearly dread-locked to her head. Her fingernails had reached an abnormally long length, almost starting to curl, and her frame was skeletal. She was completely filthy. She had to be in the worst condition of any being sold that day, yet her posture suggested otherwise. She stood, glaring, with her arms crossed, daring someone to even think of buying her.

"One hundred," Draco drawled, lifting his hand steadily into the air. Instantly her eyes slid onto him and grew round. Her eyes didn't leave him as others began to bid. She looked... haunted. She was actually beginning to scare him. "Five hundred thirty-eight!" Draco cried, not breaking eye contact.

Abner looked around before hitting his gavel against a large gong. "Sold!" He tossed Draco the key to Granger's cage. Draco pocketed it and exited to the area behind the stage.

"Grannnnnnger," Draco hissed, looking around for her cage. He found it and looked in on his newest acquisition. They stared in silence for a moment. "Mudblood," Draco said at last, nodding. She didn't say anything. "Speak when you're spoken to!" he hissed. Granger still didn't reply, but lifted her chin to reveal a large red mark that ran across her throat. Draco peered at it and began moving his hand forward when she bit down hard, drawing blood. His eyes grew large and he pulled his wand from his pocket. She immediately released, collapsing onto the ground, panting hard before fainting dead away. With his good hand, Draco snapped his fingers. Instantly his two man-servants appeared. "Take this," he gestured to the unconscious woman, "back to the manor. Also, call for Healer Quintepps."

"Is that Granger?" one of them asked, tilting his head stupidly.

"Yes Crabbe, you blundering idiot! Now go!" Draco wrapped his broken hand in a handkerchief before disapparating to his home.

_On a wagon bound for market, there's a calf with a mournful eye_

_High above him, there's a swallow, winging swiftly through the sky_

Hermione was vaguely aware of being transported via a humongous burning pit and some floo powder. She had, long ago, started to feel numb, physically, mentally, and emotionally. But there was still a lot of her old spark left, if only she had her strength and a good wand at her disposal. The fact that Voldemort had ordered all captured muggleborns to be sold at auction hadn't surprised her as much as she would have thought. It almost seemed the natural course of action for him. How she loathed that scum of a man… if you could even call him one. And now she had been "bought" by her child-hood nemesis. Well, if he wanted her, he could have her. Like anything he could put her through could be worse than the torture sessions she'd undergone in the Death Eaters' custody. Crabbe and Goyle left her in her cage in a large, dark room.

_How the winds are laughing, they laugh with all their might!_

_Laugh and laugh the whole day through, and half the summer's night…_

Her body ached. The gash beneath her chin had never had a chance to fully heal, and she had still been unable to speak, even after all of these months. What genius had thought to render her mute in order to get her to talk deserved a few good lessons on the laws of physics.

_Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna_

_Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna_

_Donna, Donna, Donna, Donna_

_Donna, Donna, Donna, Don-na…_

"She looks terrible," a man was saying. "I was there. You missed a very pretty little thing, went for four times higher! This though, what's so great about her?"

"Don't let her looks deceive you, underneath this miserable exterior is the most brilliant mind under the age of fifty. And besides… she and I have some… catching up to do."

"That smart, huh? I heard she's in league with _the Boy_. That true Draco?"

"In league with him? You must be joking me Quintepps! This is Hermione Granger. _The_ Hermione Granger. As in his best mate, aside from Weasley."

"You're kidding me! That's her? I read her name on the most wanted list only three weeks ago. I'm surprised they even allowed her at the auction. Heck, I'm surprised she's _alive_ at all."

"They knew I wanted her. Besides, she's useful yet. She may still hold the key to finding Potter… among other things."

"Yeek! You call him by his name?"

"He's not the Dark Lord, Winston. I did know him for several years. I had _classes _with him. You can't cower in fear of some one with taped up glasses, you know."

"Taped…" Quintepps laughed. "Taped up glasses? That's hilarious. Why have I never heard this before?"

"Well, to be fair, I only saw them taped on one occasion. After that he managed to learn occulus reparo."

"It's still rich!"

"Shh! I think she's waking up."

_Stop complaining, said the farmer. Who told you a calf to be? _

_Why don't you have wings to fly with? Like the swallow so proud and free?_

Draco watched as Granger's eyelids fluttered open, and there were those awful, accusing eyes again. "This, Mudblood, is Healer Quintepps. I suggest you don't _bite_ him. He's here to help you. See, he already fixed up my hand." He waved the aforementioned body part in her face to show that she hadn't hurt him. "Now be a good little girl and let the Healer examine you. Goodness knows you need it."

_Calves are easily bound and slaughtered, never knowing the reason why_

_But whoever treasures freedom, like the swallow has learned to fly_

"And that should finish it," Quintepps said, stepping away from Hermione. "Try saying a few words."

"The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain," Hermione said, speaking for the first time in a very long time. It came out hoarse and still hurt her throat slightly, but she had managed to speak, and that was a good thing.

"Excellent!" Quintepps said, beaming. "I'm going to leave some lozenges with your master for you."

"How's it going?" Malfoy asked, joining them in the makeshift dungeon.

"Pretty well. She can speak again, and I cut down those nails of hers. Now just get her a bath and a few good meals and she'll be up for menial labor soon enough."

Malfoy smirked. "Well, I don't know about that, but at least I'll be able to stay in the same room with her without retching from the stench. Thank you Quintepps."

"No problem at all, Mister Malfoy. None at all." Malfoy smirked again as Quintepps stepped out of the room.

Once again the cold, haunted eyes of Hermione Granger landed on those of Draco Malfoy. She didn't say a single word. "I believe, Miss Granger, that it is high time you had a bath."

"Feed me, you scum, or your money will all have gone to waste," she spat out, surprising him. He smirked.

"Too true." He snapped his fingers and a house-elf appeared at his side. "Bring the woman something to eat, Kobby… _now_." About twenty seconds went by before the elf reappeared with a tray of grim looking food. Hermione wasn't fazed. She had been kept on the brink of starvation for far too long to be picky. She didn't even bother using the fork she had been given, picking up what looked like it might have been mashed cockroaches and stuffing it into her mouth, greedily. "Sickening…" Draco commented, watching the former Head Girl at Hogwarts behaving like a complete savage. He had other things on his mind, however. It was almost paining him to allow her to regain her strength before broaching the subject of why he had really purchased her at auction that day. At long last, she looked up, licking her fingertips in a satisfied manner.

"Well, what do you say?" Draco asked, eyeing her.

"I do not intend on thanking you, Malfoy. You are simply postponing the inevitable for me."

"I see." He stared at her. She had really grown quite revolting during her years of captivity. Ablestivner had called her an "especially feisty female." He didn't doubt it. She had always been stubborn. "Are you ready for that bath then, madam?"

She closed her eyes. "Very well."

Draco snapped his fingers again and gave Kobby, as well as a female elf, instructions. "…And be sure to do something about her hair." When, an hour later, Hermione Granger was redirected into her dungeon cell, her skin was pink and her hair was short, curling so that it was about an inch and a half long all the way around her head. Draco watched her carefully.

"Well, Malfoy, what is this all about, anyway?" she asked, as she sat down primly on her cell floor.

"There's a riddle I need you to help me solve, Granger… A very… astounding riddle indeed."

A.N.: Confused? I'll get there. Sorry if you're grossed out at all. Thank you for helping me to reach my goal with CMG. Now, review like the wind… please.


	2. Riddle Me This

Sold-Chapter 2-Riddle Me This

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: Yes, you are confused. (evil smirk)

_Evander stood at the entryway to Hogwarts, peeking out across the open lawn. There she was, with her glorious black hair swung haphazardly over her shoulder. His brown eyes watched her with keen adoration. He took a deep breath and headed toward her._

_"H-Hi Lily!" he said, nervously, smiling at her as she turned around._

_"Oh, hey Ev! What's up?" she asked, her green eyes sparkling_

_"Oh, not much. The, the sky, I guess." He looked up, as if for inspiration. She tried to hide a smirk and looked up as well. "Nice clouds," Evander muttered, instantly regretting it._

_"Yeah… they're cumulus." Lily smiled at him. Evander smiled back, but then he frowned. There was something funny, way up in the clouds. It was growing larger, and larger._

_"WATCH OUT!" he yelled, pushing Lily to the ground. She screamed as a large ball of light and electricity came hurtling toward them…_

_"Wh-where am I?" Evander asked, opening his eyes and staring around. He recognized the place. He was, most definitely, in Malfoy Manor, his grandparents' home. But it was darker, somehow. There wasn't any light coming through the windows. He scrambled to his feet as he heard footsteps echoing through the hall and he hid behind a suit of armor. He peeped out as he saw a man approaching, with long blond hair in a pony-tail. "Dad?" Evander asked, leaving his hiding place._

_The man whipped around and Evander found a wand under his nose. "WHO ARE YOU? Where did you come from?" he asked. His face was set in a grimace._

_"Dad, it's me!" but even as he said it, he knew that something wasn't right. Although this man looked like the Draco Malfoy he knew he was not. Something wasn't right. Something was_ definitely not right.

"What sort of riddle?" Hermione asked, sitting calmly on the floor. She had come to the sudden conclusion that it felt very good to be clean. Even her fingertips were basking in the glory of being freed from her atrociously long nails. Her muscle was slowly starting to feel tingly with the bit of energy that the food had restored to it. All she needed now was a good long nap, and, in time, perhaps even some exercise.

"Well," Draco began, standing resolutely with arms crossed, "I feel I must first impress upon you the very private nature of this riddle."

Hermione laughed, dryly. "Meaning what, Malfoy?"

Draco lifted his eyebrow at her. "Breathe a word about it to anyone and you'll be dead before you can say 'kedavra.'" Granger was unmoved, so he continued. "But somehow I have a feeling that you wouldn't want to go snitching anyway… not that you can." He paused. Her almost dead-eyes were watching him without emotion. "Here," he handed her something from his pocket. His heart beat harder as he waited for her evaluation of the photograph.

Hermione took the three by five photo and held it up to her nose. Her forehead wrinkled almost instantly. For Merlin's sake, Malfoy… It was a picture of the two of them, obviously forged… it had to have been. They were younger, maybe in their mid-twenties. She was smiling, wearing a wedding dress, of all things. He, apparently, was the groom. They were… well, they were cuddling. Hermione almost wanted to laugh. Then her heart almost stopped. Out of the side of the photo, Harry Potter marched in and wrapped his arms around the two. If this were someone's idea of a joke… She flipped the photo over and noticed her own handwriting. "Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy," followed by a date, July, thirteen years ago. "It's a practical joke, Malfoy," Hermione said, eyes never betraying her.

"No mudblood," Draco said, plucking it out of her grasp, "I don't think it is." He blinked at her.

"Where'd you get it?" she asked, feeling anger boiling up inside her. Seeing Harry again… He'd been missing since she was twenty-three. There were several unconfirmed rumors that he had been murdered by Voldemort, but she refused to believe any of them.

"I was hoping you'd ask that," Draco replied, smirking at her. He went into the corner of the room and uncovered a blanket off of something. He brought it forward and set it down.

"A book bag?" Hermione asked, skeptically.

"Not just any book bag," he replied, giving her a sideways glance. He opened it and pulled out several objects. A wand, standard book of spells: grade one, parchment, a quill, Hogwarts: A History, and a small photo album. The latter, Draco held up to show her. He had slid the wedding photo back in and was now holding up a much more recent page.

Hermione had to stand up and peep through the bars to see anything. Again, there she was with Malfoy, but they weren't alone. Standing between them was a young boy, around ten-years-old, grinning sheepishly. What struck her most was his amazing similarity… to both of them. He had her curls, her eye-color, his chin, a compromising hair color of dark blond, his pale skin… He was exactly how any child born between them would have turned out. The very thought made her skin crawl. The look in Malfoy's eyes made her want to scream.

"Well?" Malfoy asked.

"Where did you get this?" Hermione repeated. Draco looked her in the eyes and turned-tail. He marched to the opposite wall and opened a seemingly hidden door.

"Mobili corpus," she heard him mutter. She couldn't see very well, but knew that someone was being led along with him. He lowered the person to the ground and turned to face her, before stepping out of the way. Hermione scrambled forward as she got a good look at the boy from the photograph. He was unconscious and lying limply on the floor. She cautiously reached a hand through the bars and stroked his hair.

"How long has he been here?" she whispered, more fearful for him than for she had been for herself all of these years. His hair was soft and silky.

"About a week, I've kept him unconscious while I waited for you."

"He," Hermione forced herself to keep her voice calm, "he… have you performed a paternity spell?"

"Only naturally Granger, what do you take me for? He's fully and biologically ours." Draco's voice took up some of its earlier drawl. "A fact that I can assure you is mathematically impossible."

"So… you want me to figure out who or what he is?" Draco nodded. "Then you had better tell me all you know."

Draco took a long look at the child before him and then at the skeletal woman behind the bars. In her present state, childbirth might have snapped her like a twig. He sighed. "As I said, I've kept him unconscious. I must have scared him, because once he realized that I wasn't his _father_," he stopped speaking. "…He called me Dad." He shifted, uncomfortably. "Judging by the contents of his knapsack, I'd say that he's a first year at Hogwarts." Draco's eyebrows knitted. Hogwarts had been near destroyed after Dumbledore's death. No one went there. "He turned up at my parents' house, in one of the wings of Malfoy Manor at approximately 9:15 AM on Tuesday the twenty-second of September."

"That's it?" Hermione asked, the gears in her head desperately trying to make sense of it all.

"That's it. I haven't even been able to figure out his name."

"I… want to speak with him… alone."

"Why?" Draco immediately countered.

"You've already managed to frighten him out of his wits. If we want any answers, he needs to be calm."

Draco contemplated the matter. "Very well, but just know, Granger, that I do have the power to punish you… or the boy." He picked up the book bag and muttered "ennervate," before leaving through the door.

Very slowly, the boy stirred. He sat up and blinked. The room was very dark. He turned his head and squinted. "Mum?" he asked, clearly having kept his memories of his situation in tact.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but he continued before she could. "Listen, we may not have much time. I don't know where I am or why everything's so funny, but we need to find Lily Potter!"

"Lily Potter…" Hermione echoed, more confused than ever.

"Why are you in a cage? Why's Dad so… creepy? And what happened to you? You looked about dead."

"Lily Potter?" Hermione asked again. She was completely dumbfounded. So far she had learned that this boy belonged to herself and Draco Malfoy from a marriage that never existed, that somehow Harry Potter had been present at the ceremony, and now she was being asked to believe that Lily Potter was somehow alive?

"Oh, come on Mum! You must remember her!"

"She… she died thirty-seven years ago."

The boy rubbed his head in desperation. "No, not her, not Harry's mum. I mean Harry's daughter. Why has the world suddenly gone blarney?"

"You mean, you're not the only one?"

"One what?"

Hermione cradled her head in confusion. "If what you're saying is true, and Harry Potter's blood daughter is somewhere nearby, then the world is in very, very big trouble."

"What's going on Mum? Nothing makes sense…"

"Listen, what's your name?" Hermione asked, looking at him desperately.

"It's," the boy paused, a frown creasing his forehead, "it's Evander Gwydion Malfoy… and you're not my Mum, are you?"

"No… at least, not in this lifetime."

A.N.: Well? Are you slightly less confused? I feel like I've given away too much too soon.


	3. Origins

Sold-Chapter 3-Origins

By Marmalade Fever

A.N. I bumped up the rating because of your suggestions. Please read my note in my profile for details.

Draco stood, crouched, behind the dungeon door. If they thought he wouldn't eavesdrop, they were both fools. Lily Potter, eh? So in whatever dream this boy came from, Potter had married and produced a daughter. He tried not to focus on the fact that he had also married Hermione Granger. Every way he looked at it, it just didn't make sense. Granted, he still didn't know all the details. He didn't know who this boy was, if he were real or no, how he had come to be… There seemed no explanation, under any circumstances, that would prompt him to marry the mudblood. Was his parallel self at all like him? How many aspects of his life did he share?

There was one thing that bothered him a great deal. The date on the wedding photograph had revealed that they had been wed at the age of twenty-five. Draco had also married at that age. His wife had left him a widower only a year after they had married. Antoine had always been a fool. She was much too wrapped up in herbology to recognize the joys of being a pure-blood in a Dark Lord-ruled society.

Draco had not had any real inclination to marry when he did. Rather, he had been forced into it. According to some old document that his father had produced, he had no other choice than to marry an English witch of his own age. There had been a handful of candidates. The random killings that had been occurring since that Dark Lord gained power had limited his choices. In the end his father had made the choice for him. If he concentrated, it seemed as if Granger's name might have been on the list of candidates as well.

Draco couldn't help but to wonder if his alter ego had also faced the Malfoy Marriage Contract. It was feasible, considering their ages. Unfortunately, there was no way to prove it. If this boy were truly a Malfoy, then his parents would not have been allowed to tell him of the Contract until he came of age at twenty-five. If that were true, then would he suffer from the consequences if he told the boy about the Contract… as a parent? There was really no way of knowing.

Assuming that the other Draco Malfoy had been under the restraint of the Marriage Contract, what would have compelled him to marry mudblood Hermione Granger? Had he been a goody-two-shoes, or something as unthinkable as that? The very idea caused him to shudder. Even had Granger been the only candidate that fit the requirements, Draco doubted whether he would have been able to produce a child with her, unless he had been extremely anxious to continue the family line… Every thought was an abomination.

Draco pressed his ear harder against the door. Granger had just asked the boy what his name was. He had been curious to find out ever since he had encountered the boy. Perhaps… perhaps he wouldn't even say that his name was Malfoy. No… that would be an impossibility. The wedding photograph had the name on it, and the paternity test proved everything.

"It's… it's Evander Gwydion Malfoy…" Draco heard the boy say. His skin crawled. It was a very smooth flowing sort of name, not overly prestigious so that it felt unnatural to call a boy by it, but not so common that the name Malfoy didn't carry any weight with it. Evander… He had never heard the name before, to his knowledge, but he instantly liked it. Gwydion, obviously, dated back to England during the days of Merlin and Camelot. Some scholars claimed that it had been the name that Arthur had been christened at birth, because of his blond hair. Even Lancelot had originally been named Galahad. Lancelot was a name meaning Elf-arrow… "…and you're not my Mum, are you?"

"No… at least, not in this lifetime." There was silence and Draco began to wonder if it would damage the boy if he were to make his entrance.

"We aren't at Malfoy Manor anymore. This is our house," Evander commented, postponing Draco's entrance. "I used to play down here all the time. You… my mum never liked it, of course. She couldn't make heads or tails why we even have a dungeon. I couldn't really figure it out either… 'til now."

"What do you mean?"

"My parents have been fairly honest with me. They told me all about how poorly they got along at school. I know that Grandfather Malfoy is, or at least was, a Death-eater. Dad was never especially thrilled that he was released. I still catch Dad and Uncle Harry staring daggers at one another… I wonder… I wonder what this place is. Maybe this is what life would have been like had Voldemort won the final battle."

Draco's eyes widened in horror. The boy… the boy had dared to utter the Dark Lord's name. If he listened closely, he could make out the intake of breath that Granger had taken in her own surprise. "You… you said his name!" she said, in a shocked voice.

"Well… I'm still not sure what exactly's going on, but you have to understand. I was born ten years after his fall, and raised by very… you know. You, I mean, my mum always taught me that fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself. Why should I be afraid of some freak that's been dead all this time?"

"Evander, please! Be very careful what you say! This… this world is dangerous. Take Harry, for instance… he… he's been missing for years. We aren't even sure if he's alive or dead. And look at me! I was _bought_ at an auction! A world of anguish and slavery! That's what you've stumbled onto!" Draco could hear muffled sobs coming through the door. He never thought that he would live to see the day that Hermione Granger actually broke down and cried after all of these years. The effort, on her part, was amazing. He knew what sort of physical condition she was in. He was surprised her body was hydrated enough to permit tears.

"I'm sorry! Please don't cry!" Evander continued to make hushing sounds. "Here, I'll change the subject… Um… Cats! How's… no, I suppose you wouldn't know how Marmalade is… Oh, Marmalade is our cat. Dad gave him to you for Christmas before you got married."

The sobs ceased. "He gave me a cat?" Draco too was a little interested in the subject. He had never bought a cat in his life, nevertheless for a woman.

"Mmhmm, he knew that you liked them. I can't tell you how many stories I've heard about old Crookshanks. So he got you an orange kitten."

"What else can you tell me about how they got together?" Draco's ears perked up, wondering whether his theory about the Contract were true.

"Um, let's see. Dad had just had his twenty-fifth birthday, and for some reason he invited you to dinner. You went to his birthday party. A week later, he asked you to marry him." Evander's voice sounded temporarily puzzled. "I think he kissed you a week after that. Later you two went to the Ministry's annual ball. You… broke up… on Christmas night. Then dad was engaged to Antoine." Draco's brow furrowed. "Then, on Valentine's Day, he realized he loved you. He ended up leaving Antoine at the altar. Then the two of you eloped. Grandfather wasn't too pleased… Then you had a big ceremony at the Manor."

Draco's brain spun with the new information. Yes, this other time-line most definitely did have a Malfoy Marriage Contract, judging by the hasty engagement after his birthday. But what was this about Antoine? He had realized that he _loved_ the Mudblood and left a perfectly good pureblood at the altar? How bizarre and twisted could this other timeline get?

"We… they only dated a week before they got engaged?" Granger asked, oblivious to the information that was whirling in Draco's head.

"Yeah… I don't get that either. They told me they'd explain it more clearly when I'm older. But who knows if that day will ever come? How am I even to get back?"

There was a large sigh from Granger. "Tell me _exactly_ what happened before you got here."

"Well… I was crossing the lawn at Hogwarts to, er, talk to Lily…"

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen." Draco smirked to himself.

"Hmm… go on."

"I said something like 'Hi,' and then I said something stupid about the clouds… That's when I saw this weird thing in the sky. It was like… a ball. Er, how do I describe it? It looked as if it were made of pure energy. It was sort of electric looking, with lightning dancing through it. I just had enough time to warn her and push her to the ground. The next thing I knew, I was at my Grandparents' manor and my Dad was walking down the hall, looking as if he were about to kill."

"I see… Do you think you could handle talking to him? I don't think he'll hurt you…"

"We really do need to go help Lily. I'm afraid she's in trouble… I can feel it."

"I know… but we don't know where she is. She's been here for a week now, I'm sure a few more minutes won't hurt her." Draco doubted the sincerity in the woman's words. They were words of comfort, not truth. "I think you should come in now, Malfoy." Draco was startled by her invitation, but opened the door and entered the dimly lit dungeon. He saw Granger sitting on the floor, looking exhausted. The boy, Evander, was standing before him. For the first time in a week, he saw those brown eyes of his that were so much like hers. They were almost too warm to be a Malfoy's, but they complimented him well. "I assume you've been listening?" Granger asked, breaking the intense silence.

"Only naturally, Miss Granger. Now, I have a few things to discuss with you… but the boy must go."

"Why?" Evander asked, putting on a brave face and straightening himself to his full height. Oh yes, this boy was certainly a Malfoy.

"I don't believe it concerns you…"

"I can tell when you're lying… Your left nostril twitches."

"Then you should also know when I'm in a dangerous mood… I am no one to be trifled with." Draco snapped his fingers and the two house elves arrived. "Take the boy to the bedroom I showed you and lock the doors. Petrificus totallus," he muttered, aiming at the boy, who went rigid and fell into the arms of the house elves.

A.N. You must be really impatient with me. My chapters are so short. But I really just can't force myself to write that much in a single chapter. Congrats to those of you who have managed to figure out what's going on.


	4. Missing

Sold-Chapter 4-Missing

By Marmalade Fever

"What do you mean they're missing?" Hermione bellowed at Professor McGonagall's head, which was poking through her fireplace.

"I know you're confused, Mrs. Malfoy, but rest assured; we are doing everything in our power to find out what happened." The now rather aged professor's face was ashen.

Hermione's pale hands shook, and Draco wasn't doing much better. Scarcely a minute ago Minerva McGonagall's head had come to inform them of the tragedy. Both Evander Malfoy and Lily Potter had mysteriously disappeared earlier that morning. There had been several witnesses. Miss Potter's friends Brenna White, Amanda Cushman, and Marian Totterall had been only a few feet away at the time of the disappearance. They had reported a strange anomaly resembling a ball of lightning that had come from the clouds and literally pushed the two children away.

"Is there anything we can do?" Draco asked, holding his wife's hand in his own in a feeble attempt to soothe her.

"Not at the moment I'm afraid, Mr. Malfoy." She turned her eyes toward him and gave a very small smile. "He's an excellent pupil, as is Miss Potter. If they're together, I'm sure that they will have the sense to seek out help."

"What do you mean? What do you think happened?" Hermione asked, gasping as she fought off her sobs.

"We just don't know yet. I'm so sorry. I'm sure Albus won't rest until he's done everything in his power to get them back…"

"And if it _isn't_ in his power?" Draco asked, softly, his face rigid.

"Then I can only hope that they will be able to find their way back on their own."

…….

Hermione stared emotionlessly at Draco Malfoy's arrogant face. "Can you really feel so threatened by a mere child that you feel the need to flaunt your magic that way?" she asked, eying him.

Granger's cold expression was still bothering Draco. Ever since he had bid on her at the auction, her eyes had held that same haunted look. What on earth could have happened to her that would make her look so… not human. If he hadn't heard her sobs only minutes ago, he would have thought that her soul had died and that she had become a sort of shell. He chose to ignore her question. "I suppose you're confused about the subject of our apparent… courting that went on in the boy's timeline."

"Of course. Why? Do you think you can shed some light on the situation?" She looked skeptically at him, but she had never truly lost her desire to learn and expand her mind, even if her information came from less than favorable sources.

"What I'm about to say can never leave this room. Under no situation may you tell the boy."

"He has a name, Malfoy."

"True, but no child who claims our parentage deserves my recognition."

Granger huffed. "Go on. What explanation have you come up with?" It was amazing how all the scratchiness in her voice that had been so apparent only a few hours ago had dwindled away into a silky smoothness.

"In my family," Draco began, eying her, "there are certain rules about marriage that are not revealed to the children until they reach the age of twenty-five." Granger's eyebrow lifted noticeably at the word "twenty-five." "The Malfoy Marriage Contract was drawn up roughly four-hundred years ago. It states that if a Malfoy is unwed at that age, he must marry by his next birthday."

"So… you think that in this other timeline you weren't married until you turned twenty-five?" Granger asked. Draco nodded. She laughed dryly. "There must have been countless other girls. Why me?"

"Because you fit the specifications. Not married, a witch, same age, and English… You'd be surprised how much those points can narrow down the competition."

Granger laughed harder. "Trust me, I would have had to be your only choice if you decided to propose to me after only one week." She squeezed her eyes closed, her laughter echoing through the room as if she were mad.

Draco crossed his arms as he waited for her fit to subside. "That's my theory exactly."

"What?" she croaked. "You think I was really the only candidate? What about the others?"

Draco sneered. "Isn't it obvious? You were the only one left that wasn't already married!" Now it was his turn to laugh, right in her face.

Granger smirked. "You were single, too, might I add." His face twisted into a sour expression. "Evander said that you were engaged to someone name Antoine… A Frenchman?"

Draco rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but enjoy the sensation of being ahead of the game. "He was talking about _Miss_ Antoine Bellover, renowned herbologist, and, coincidentally, named for her grandfather."

"I see." Granger held her chin in her hand, thinking. "You know her?" she asked, as she processed all of the mysterious information.

"As a matter of fact, she's my wife."

Granger's head whipped up with phenomenal speed. "You're married?" she asked.

"I _was_ married. She died years ago."

There were a few moments of silence. "I guess it really doesn't matter much for us to know all of the details concerning the world that Evander came from, we're merely satisfying out curiosity."

"But the more we know, the closer we are to solving this."

"You broke up with me… got engaged to her… and then left her at the altar to go back to me…" Granger's eyes stayed determinedly down, and Draco was glad of it. In that brief moment, both were pondering the same thing. Was it truly possible for him to fall in love with her? All evidence pointed to yes. It sounded as if the two had dated under the pretense of an engagement, but somehow it had become more. It had become… Draco hated to think about it. The very idea that he should surrender his heart to _anyone_, especially a mudblood, was unthinkable.

Then another part of their courtship that the boy had mentioned floated into Draco's mind. He had kissed her only two weeks after his birthday. Physical attraction. It had always been a tricky thing. Although many who thought they new the Great Draco Malfoy believed that he was a man of less than noble character when it came to women, the truth was that he had always somewhat ignored that aspect of his being. Yes, he had dated before and after Antoine… But women had never really left him feeling out-of-control and overly desirous. Dependency on anything was a weakness. The point was that he had a great power of resistance.

So… if he had given into temptation and kissed the mudblood that early in the relationship… What did that mean?

Granger cleared her throat. "I do think we should try and figure this out as soon as possible. If Lily Potter is here, you know as well as I do that she is in grave danger."

Draco was snapped out of his dangerous thoughts and allowed himself to look at her. "It surprises me that you think I'd be willing to help Potter's daughter."

"I never said that you would be willing, but who else is there for me to send to her rescue? She'll never survive on her own."

"And this concerns me why?"

"Think Malfoy. _Think_. Don't you think that that ball of electricity that just so happened to transport them here is suspicious? Obviously, someone sent them here."

Comprehension spread over Draco's face, but then he frowned. "If someone wanted them here, then why did I find him in a random wing in Malfoy Manor? Wouldn't they have been sent to the one who cast the spell?"

Granger was silent. It was obvious that she was growing very tired. "I don't think Evander is supposed to be here."

"That's a little obvious, Granger."

"No, I mean that they didn't mean to bring him here, just her…" She zoned out, staring pointedly at a space over his shoulder. "I need you to bring me a few things."

"What could you possibly need?" Draco crossed his arms. He had forgotten how irritating she could be when she was engrossed in a mental project.

"Parchment, a quill, any books you can find on dimensional rifts, a ball… a quaffle would work… and two clothespin sized dolls." Draco stared at her, frowning. "And a very detailed map of Malfoy Manor and the surrounding area."

A.N. I'm sleepy. I'm going to post this before I start snoozing over the keyboard. I'm going to try and get another chapter up on Sunday. After that I'm afraid I'll be having more difficulty finding computer free-time to write, as I always do during the holidays.


	5. The Son

Sold-Chapter 5-The Son

By Marmalade Fever

The room was unnaturally cheerful looking compared to the rest of the world. Evander almost thought that he had been transported back to his own home as he blinked his sleep encrusted eyes. Although there was no way that Draco Malfoy might have known, this was actually Evander's bedroom back in his own timeline. Sure, there were a few mementos missing… okay, all of his things were missing… but his bed was there. It was the same king-sized four-poster that had always been in this room, even before his birth. He knew it was the same one before he had even opened his eyes. There was just something familiar about the springs and the lingering scent of Laundro-magique that the house-elves used that made him feel safe and at home. Once he did open his eyes, his suspicions were confirmed. On the upper right bed knob the initials "LM" followed by slightly less worn "DM" had been carved into the wood. This bed had almost become an heirloom. Back in his own timeline, he had carved "EM" just below his father's initials. Indeed, Evander felt very tempted to carve them into this bed as well, but without a proper knife it was impossible.

Next to his bed was his old wardrobe that his mother had always teased him about. She said that it had been made out of an apple tree and that the apple had come from a faraway place called Narnia. When he had been about four, she had read him the entirety of the Chronicles of Narnia, and he had tried in vain to find his way to the land behind the coats. Obviously, this wardrobe was not made out of the same stuff that Professor Diggory Kirk's wardrobe had been made of.

The only other object in the room that was familiar was the large, ornate light fixture. He had never really liked it much. It had too many flowers for his taste. However, at the moment, it was very comforting to see.

By the light at the window, he could tell that it was now well past dawn. He had spent yet another night in this God-forsaken world. That meant that the danger Lily was in was growing deeper and deeper with every second that passed.

He had known that he liked Lily in a boy-girl sort of way even before Hogwarts. He had had a fixation with her since the age of six. He could remember it like yesterday. His parents had invited all of their friends for a dinner party. His mother had introduced him to all the children, but Lily was the oldest of them all. She had been eight and a good six inches taller than him. Even back then, her hair had been long, black, and luxurious. He had been instructed to entertain her, Maia Longbottom, who had been three at the time, and Benny Weasley, who was only a year younger than him. During a very long-drawn game of hide and seek, Evander had found Lily hiding in the old dungeons underneath the house. She had been in total awe.

"Why do you have a dungeon in your house?" she had asked.

"I'm not sure… I think some of my family were bad wizards once."

"You know who my dad is, right?"

"Harry Potter. Everyone knows that."

"I bet he'd be very unhappy if he knew that your family is bad."

"My family isn't bad anymore. Well, maybe not my grandparents, but my Mum and Dad are fine."

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" Lily asked, turning to him with her deep green eyes.

"Um… I thought I might fancy healing." At that time, Evander had wanted to be able to stop his pet Puffskein from turning blue every time it took a bath. He thought that healing might have helped it.

"That's cool… I wanted to be the greatest Sorceress ever to have lived."

"Really?"

"Yep. My dad is wicked powerful. I want to be just like him." He saw the glint in her eye and felt the power that had been radiating off of her as she revealed this information. It was at that moment that he knew that this was the girl he wanted to marry someday… even if she did have cooties.

Evander's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. A small house-elf stuck its head in the room and peered at him. "Is Sir wanting anything to eat?" it asked.

Evander's stomach growled. "Yes, please. Thank you Kobby."

The house-elf jumped. "Sir is knowing my name?"

Evander sighed. In his home, Kobby had practically raised him. His mother, of course, had only agreed to keeping the elf on the condition that they pay him weekly wages of three galleons. Kobby had even had nappy duty when he was a baby.

"Yes, I know your name," Evander replied, smiling genially at the elf he loved so much.

"What would Sir like to eat? Kobby's master is allowing all sorts of food."

"I think I'd like a glass of juice and some of your cranberry bread." Evander paused, and looked at the elf again. It had a bloody bandage wrapped around its ear. "Say, what have you been feeding… Miss Granger?" He'd had to stop himself from saying, "my mother."

"Kobby did not bring her very pleasant food last night, sir. But this morning Kobby was bringing her fresh fruit and toast."

Evander let go of a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. No matter what the situation, she was his mother, and it brought him comfort to know that she wasn't being starved. "Thank you Kobby, you may go now."

Evander watched as the elf closed the door, and began to wonder. He stepped up to the knob and turned it. Drat. It was locked again. He would have to figure out a way to rig the door so that it wouldn't lock when Kobby came back with his food. He wasn't the son of the brightest witch to ever walk Hogwarts for nothing, after all.

Evander looked around the room. He had a hunch that the door wasn't locked with magic. If it were just a regular lock… the lock that had been on his bedroom door his entire life… then he could manage. He walked to the wardrobe and pulled out a wire hanger. He bent it and tied an end around the doorknob. The idea was that when the door was opened again, he could slide the tip of the wire through the keyhole, so that it blocked the locking mechanism, thus allowing him to be able to pull the door open. And if he knew Kobby, which he did, the elf wouldn't even notice.

He had no sooner finished his contraption than Kobby knocked again and brought him his food. "Thank you Kobby," Evander said, feigning his excitement about being fed. As the elf left, Evander pushed the wire through the hole. Smiling, he went to eat his breakfast.

He hadn't noticed just how hungry he was. He remembered moments of groggy waking over the last week when he had been hand-fed by the elves. But now that he was fully awake he was ravenous. For the first time, he was very thankful that Kobby tended to send more food than he had ordered. In addition to his cranberry bread and juice, he had also been sent scrambled eggs and kippers. He tucked into his breakfast and felt himself grow stronger.

It pained him to imagine the skeletal version of his own mother that was at that very moment being held captive in a dungeon in his own house. He had seen the dark rings under her eyes. He had even seen the vital contrast between the way she looked at him and the way she looked at his "father." She looked at him as if he were a monster.

It seemed strange that she should have short hair. Her hair had always been long and full of curls…

Evander had a few decisions to make. Leaving his room wasn't necessarily the smartest action he could perform. If he was caught, which seemed likely, then there might be dire consequences. Not just for him, but for Miss Granger. Besides this, there was no certainty that if he escaped he could do anything to find Lily. Who knew, maybe if he cooperated he'd do her more good than harm. His "parents" seemed to be working to solve the mystery of his presence. They might just rescue Lily anyway. And overall he still needed them to find him a way back to his own world.

And so, Evander did not leave his room just yet. He did, however, take a peek into the hallway to check out the situation. It came in very handy that he already knew the house like the back of his hand. He knew every crook and cranny, every trap door, every mouse hole… everything!

The view out of his window was not quite as it had always been. The flowerbeds were missing and a few of the trees looked damaged. One of the fountains was gone as well. From the window, he could just make out Malfoy Manor.

Without his bookshelf to keep him occupied, Evander contented himself with his thoughts. The son of the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Brainiac was no one to be trifled with, either.

A.N.: Sorry I didn't post on Sunday. I've been busy. I'm graduating from High School on Saturday. (I got magna cum laude!) I'll try and post as often as I can.


	6. Location

Sold-Chapter 6- Location

By M-Fever

Hermione turned the quaffle over and over in her hands, thinking. She had a theory now, but how to put it into motion? She wrote down a few figures on the parchment that Malfoy had given her.

She had gone to sleep as soon as he had left the room. The house-elf, Kobby, had come and brought her some breakfast. (A very welcome breakfast, at that.) How she envied the little elf! Despite his enslavement, she was certainly in a worse position. S.P.E.W. seemed like a thing long forgotten.

It was now around eight in the morning. She had set her mental clock to wake her at 6:30 so that she could work on the riddle. Her thoughts were interrupted as Malfoy abruptly entered the dungeon.

"Mudblood," he said, nodding his head in her direction.

"Malfoy," she acknowledged.

"Have you figured anything out yet?" He conjured a chair and sat down primly, staring at her with loathing.

"How's the boy?" she asked, changing the subject.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "He's fine."

"Good…" Hermione crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall. She closed her eyes for a moment. "Have you ever gone bowling, Malfoy?" she asked, opening her eyes to stare at him.

"Mudblood… what are you on about now?" Malfoy asked, staring back at her with venom.

"Do you know what bowling is?" Hermione asked, unscathed. He didn't reply, just stared at her. "It's a muggle sport, Malfoy."

"Yes, yes… I know that much. There's a ball and it tries to knock over some sort of white things… puns, I think they're called."

Hermione nodded. "_Pins_," she corrected.

"Granger, what has this to do with anything? I highly doubt there's a single bowling alley left on the planet, and I'm certainly not taking you on a field trip."

Hermione held up the quaffle to show him. "In bowling, you use a very heavy, dense ball. The bowler puts his fingers into the three round holes and rolls it down the alley to knock over the pins."

"Ten points to Gryffindor, now get on with it!"

"Now, pretend this doll is a pin." Hermione set the little doll on its feet and demonstrated throwing the quaffle at it. "See how it went straight backwards?" Malfoy nodded, irritably. "Now, if I set up two dolls…" Hermione stood both of the dolls up and threw the quaffle at them…

"They went in different directions!" Somewhere in Draco's brain, something clicked. So that was what the mudblood was on about. She was saying that the force that had brought the children here was only meaning to hit one of them, Lily. When the "ball" hit both of them, it sent them flying in opposite directions.

"So," Granger continued, "that means that there are three points we're working with. There's Evander's position in Malfoy Manor, Lily's position, and the point where she was meant to be sent." She drew a dot on the map where the boy had been found. "The dot represents a point on the circumference of a circle. Wherever Lily is is its mate. And an equal distance between those two points, the radius, is where she was supposed to be… where the caster of the spell wanted her."

"But how large is the circle?" Draco asked, coming forward to get a better look at the map.

"I can't tell. I _need_ to know one of the other points. Lily might be meters away or she might be in Antartica."

"You took arithmancy, didn't you learn how to decipher where a hidden point is?"

"I would need a wand," Granger answered, tersely.

"Tell _me_ the spell and I'll cast it _for_ you," Draco countered.

Granger rubbed the back of her neck, irritably. "Point your wand at the point on the map and repeat after me. _Pi, diameter alpha, beta_."

The arithmancy spells had always sounded… odd to Draco, but he did as he was told. The dot on the paper glowed blue and a circle appeared on the edge of the point. It fluctuated in size and revolved several times before slowing to a stop. Hastily, Granger stood and traced the circle with her quill.

"Now, point your wand at the circle and say, '_Radii_.'" The blue circle had not yet disappeared. Draco said the second spell and a red dot appeared. Granger put an ink dot on the map. "And now say point it at the first dot and say, '_beta_.'" A green dot appeared on the opposite side of the circle. "_Globus_," Granger instructed. In miniscule writing, the points were labeled. "_Finite incantetum_." The glowing circles and the points disappeared, though the writing remained.

"My eyesight has gone bad. What do the words say?" Granger asked. They were about a foot away from one another, separated by the bars.

Draco pointed at the diameter. "Two kilometers, seven-hundred-fifty-two meters. The radius is one kilometer, three-hundred-seventy-six meters."

"So, where do those points take us?"

Draco's throat clenched involuntarily. "Potter's daughter is in the woods to the north."

"And where was she supposed to be sent?"

Draco glanced at her, and his finger shook as he pointed at the radius. "Right in the Dark Lord's lair."

A.N. Yeah, yeah, that was short. I'm going on about five hours of sleep right now. I stayed up 'til five AM at Grad Night. Bleh. You're all lucky you have a new chapter at all. Be content. (Shakes fist tiredly.) (You know I'm being silly, right?)


	7. Decisions

Sold-Chapter 7-Decisions

By Marmalade Fever

Hermione gasped. She had had more than just a hunch that it was Voldemort that had sent for Lily, but to hear the confirmation caused her to flinch horribly. Memories, horrid, heartbreaking memories surrounded that monster of a man. And now the question that laid most heavily on her mind had to come out. "Will you help her?" She waited with bated breath for her childhood nemesis' answer.

"I…" Draco had to stop to think for a few seconds. He wasn't sure just why, but somewhere deep inside him wanted to help the poor little girl. But why? She was the daughter of his half-blooded enemy! He should want to spit on her face and hand her overt to the Dark Lord with a bow on her head… But he wasn't sure if he could do it. She wasn't even from this world.

But that didn't mean that he could very well disobey the Dark Lord! What if he was found out? He could always plead innocence, saying that he didn't know of the Dark Lord's plans… But that might put Evander in danger. When had he begun referring to the boy by his name? He wasn't his son. Not really.

"I…" Draco repeated. Then something happened that frightened him greatly. He glanced into Granger's eyes… and they were human once more. For the slightest fraction of a moment, he was extremely attracted to the mudblood. For that moment in time she was no longer plain, no longer frail, just a beautiful woman who sat just feet away from him. Draco turned tail and fled the room, chills shaking him. He clutched at his heart. What was happening to him?

"I hate her," he chanted to himself. "I hate her. I hate her. I _hate_ her!" He couldn't shake the feeling, though. He needed to get a grip. He rubbed his eyes and turned his head, then jumped. Evander was standing just feet away, arms crossed and looking at him expectantly. "How… how did you escape?" Draco asked, too surprised to growl.

"I'm _your_ son, remember?" Evander asked, as if it were obvious. "What are you doing out here? You look as if someone walked across your grave."

"I…" Draco repeated for the third time.

"I know; I know… you hate her. But really _Dad_ she's not that bad. I don't know how to explain it, but you two really do belong together."

"So you've said," Draco grunted, finally regaining some composure. His mind slipped back to the deathly crone in the next room who had looked like an angel to him for a fraction of a second.

"Do you know where Lily is?" Evander asked, looking up at Draco with his large, brown eyes.

Draco turned his head and nodded.

"Well?" Evander persisted. "Where is she?"

"As if I'm going to tell you!" Draco bellowed. He grabbed Evander's shoulder and began towing him down the hallway.

"What? You think I'm stupid enough to go after her on my own?"

"You were stupid enough to leave your room!"

"I don't know. I doubt you planning on murdering your flesh and blood!"

Draco whipped Evander around and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders, staring piercingly into his eyes. "You are _not_ my son."

"Perhaps not. No, no I'm not. You aren't even a tenth of the man my father is!"

"Your father married a mudblood!"

"My father was brave enough to marry her despite Lucius Malfoy's wishes! That makes him a man in my book any day!" Evander tore away from him and continued up the stairs to his room.

Draco stood, huffing and puffing. He needed a drink, and badly too. He left for the kitchen to get himself a firewhiskey.

Hermione frowned. What had she said? Malfoy was getting weirder every day, it seemed, and he hadn't even spent time in captivity! The selfish prat. What if he refused to help Lily? What should she do then? She couldn't very well let Evander down, nor could she allow Voldemort's plans to be carried out. That would never do. Well, she could think of a few good ways to escape from this dungeon, but what then? What happened when she found Lily and had no safe haven to return her to? If only she could get that stinking Malfoy's help!

During her time of captivity Hermione had worked on strengthening her mind. In particular, she had been teaching herself as much wandless magic as possible. The most logical form of this was to learn to become an animagus, which she had.

Now that she was fairly certain that Malfoy would not be returning for a while, she focused all of her energy on turning herself into her animal counterpart. It especially helped that she had regained much of her former strength, although she was still quite weak.

Seamlessly, Hermione's body shrunk, her legs bent, her arms moved back, and she took the shape of a bird… a swallow. Originally, she had been quite perturbed by her small stature as a bird, but now she had learned the advantages. Her cell with the Death-eaters' had not had bars, but magical shields. Here she was able to slip herself between them without effort. Plus, with her wings, she could escape with ease, so long as no one saw her and thought better of it.

Her transformation had brought to mind a song that her mother had liked. It was from the sixties by an artist called Donovan. It compared the life of a calf who would never know freedom to a wild bird… a swallow. Hermione promptly began her escape.

A.N.: Short! In a hurry!


	8. Eavesdropping

Sold-Chapter 8-Eavesdropping

By Marmalade Fever

Draco leaned back in his chair in his study, a bottle of firewhiskey hanging limply in his hand. Now that he was a bit tipsy, he seemed to be able to think a little more clearly about the situation. "You don't _like_ her," he slurred. "You were just thinking about what that little brat said…"

Hermione swooped down from her flight pattern as the words echoed toward her and she landed on the door handle to listen intently.

"She's not even pretty! Well… she used to be… but not now!" Malfoy grumbled. Hermione hesitantly stuck her head around the door. He didn't seem to notice. His head wasn't toward the door, anyway. In the hand that wasn't clasping the neck of the bottle was a photo and he seemed to be staring at it. "She is sort of pretty in this… Merlin! Is that Mum's dress?" Hermione tensed as she heard him give a low and flattering whistle. "She looks _good_." Well, if that didn't make Hermione uncomfortable, she didn't know what would. "And there's Potter." He spat. "Bloody, stinking, savior of the world Potter! Like I'd ever make him my best man!" He took another swig of the alcohol and rubbed his eyes. His glance swept around the room but only hovered over Hermione's tiny bird head. "Well, Mr. Potter, your daughter's life is in my hands! Now what do you think of that, eh?" He set the photo down and removed a sickle from his pocket. He eyed it. "Heads, I go after the girl, tails, I leave her for the werewolves to munch on." Hermione held her breath and waited, her tiny heart beating even faster than normal.

Then the world came crashing down as they both heard footsteps coming down the hall. She immediately pulled her head from the doorway and turned toward the intruder. It was Evander… and he had seen her. He eyed her, but held a finger to his lips as if giving her his pledge of honor. No sooner had he dropped his hand than Malfoy made his presence known, still clutching the coin and the bottle. "What now, runt?" Malfoy asked, looking thoroughly peeved.

"I just thought I'd tell you that you might want to speak more softly. These walls have ears, you know."

"So it would seem, but so do I," Malfoy answered pointing the neck of the bottle at Evander pointedly.

"I also would like to offer my sincerest hopes that the coin lands on heads."

"Really? I would never have guessed." Malfoy sneered. They stared at one another, identical expressions plastered on their faces.

"Are you going to toss it or not?" Evander asked, his eyes flicking to where Hermione was still stationed on the doorknob. "Or would you rather that I did the honors, since you seem to be too drunk to actually catch it again?" Malfoy sneered at him again and set the bottle of whiskey on the floor. He gave Evander a piercing glare before flipping the coin through the air. Despite his inebriation, he caught it without any problems. He simply stared at it for a moment, his hand blocking the results from Evander's view.

"Well?" Evander asked, stepping forward. "What is it? Are we rescuing Lily or no?"

"There is no _we_. For your information, _I_ will be rescuing your little girlfriend for you."

Evander made a very Malfoy-esque smirk. "Thank you, Father, I knew you were in there somewhere." He very deftly moved himself in front of the door knob to hide Hermione from view, and raised his hand as if allowing Malfoy to enter the office.

"Don't get cocky with me, boy," Malfoy grunted, taking his firewhiskey with him into the office and slamming the door closed behind him.

Evander smirked and offered a finger for Hermione to step up on. "That was close," he murmered, once they were out of ear-shot. "I saw you leaving the dungeons and it looks as if I guessed correctly." He navigated himself with ease up the stairs and into his bedroom, where he set her down carefully on his bed. Hermione cocked her head sideways and gave him a very birdly look. She returned herself to her normal form and just about collapsed on his bed.

"A real mattress," she muttered, lying limply. "I haven't seen a real mattress in years…"

"I bet it would freak you out if I said that in my world, you share a bedroom with _him_."

"I'm not sure if anything can freak me out anymore." Hermione was exhausted as Evander lay down beside her as if he were accustomed to doing so.

"I've never been away from my Mum for so long before," he muttered. "I can't believe they expect kids to cope without their parents for so long."

"Are you in your first year?" Hermione asked, glancing sideways at the boy with her curls.

"Yeah."

"What house are you in?" she asked. She hadn't noticed any colored ties or crests to indicate a house.

Evander smirked. "What house do you think I'm in?"

Hermione smiled. "I'm hoping against hope that you're in Gryffindor."

"Beep, wrong," he answered, grinning.

"You aren't in Slytherin, are you?" she wrinkled her nose. She hadn't had a pleasant conversation like this in so long…

"Nope. I chose my own route. I'm in Ravenclaw. The hat felt so torn between the two houses he decided to put my in a different one instead."

"I was almost in Ravenclaw…"

"That's what it said!" He laughed. "It also told me how fast it put my dad in Slytherin. That's why it doesn't surprise me to see him this way…"

"You really love him, don't you?" Hermione said, cautiously.

"He really isn't bad in my world. He's a wonderful Dad. You two… you two are perfect together. I don't know how to explain it. It tears me to pieces thinking that you two can be apart here.

"I was born at your ten year Hogwarts Reunion," he added, as an afterthought.

"Oh?" Hermione asked, looking at him.

"Yeah, and guess who delivered me."

"Madam Pomfrey?"

"You wished! It still frightens you to this very day, but it was Professor Snape!"

"Ew…" Hermione muttered, frowning. "Why would you tell me something like that?"

"I just find it interesting, especially when I have to sit through one of his potions classes. Ravenclaws double with the Slytherins. Half of them respect me like crazy while the other half sort of hiss like deranged cats."

"And how about the Gryffindors? How do they treat you?"

"Some of them are good, like Lily and the Weasley kids…"

Hermione rubbed her head. "Who is Lily's mother?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know her. She's a muggle named Penelope."

Hermione nodded, but then she froze a little. The mention of the Weasley's frightened her. Ron had died years ago, Ginny and her parents had gone into hiding, and the others were scattered about, some dead, some not.

"You had better go back to your cell now. We don't want him to know that you can escape whenever you want to," Evander commented. Hermione gave him a smile and turned herself back into a swallow before making her treacherous journey back to the dungeon.

A.N.: Yes, I know, this update took too long and it's still short… Thank you all for reading and reviewing!


	9. To the Rescue

Sold-Chapter 9-To the Rescue

By Marmalade Fever

Hours later Draco found himself with a large headache. He had taken a nap and had a dream. He had been standing next to a gigantic aviary filled with swallows. They had twittered at him, as if begging for him to release them. His hand had moved to the lock by its own accord. He opened the cage door and just then the birds grew silent. A shadow fell across the entrance and Draco turned to see what it was. It was then that he had woken up, screaming. His arms were covered in gooseflesh and he felt feverish.

It was now about one o'clock in the afternoon. Draco knew by experience that if he wanted to go after the girl, it was best to do so in the light of day. Night-time was when everyone became suspicious and all of the really treacherous things began to happen. Besides, hardly anyone went out in the daytime anymore. They all preferred the cover of night.

Draco went to his desk and opened a drawer. His wand was lying just beside Evander's. He had noted that both were made of the same type of wood, but he suspected the core to be different. He took up his wand and closed the drawer. He then grabbed his cloak, a few helpful potions, and left his office.

"Granger!" he shouted, as he made his way to the dungeons. He had a nasty hangover and was not in a fair mood.

"What is it Malfoy?" she asked, calmly, as he opened the door to the dungeons.

"I've made my decision," he answered, surreptitiously.

"Have you?" Granger was lounging on the floor, her arms crossed under her head. Since the day before at the auction, she had been wearing a very dingy pair of gray overalls. Perhaps it was time to reward her for her genius by giving her a change of clothes? But that could wait 'til later, much later.

"I've decided to go after the girl and bring her back here… for now."

"So?" she asked, closing her eyes and relaxing.

"So?" Draco repeated to himself. Why was the woman so difficult?

"So, why are you wasting time telling me? Are you or are you not the master of this household? Am I or am I not the lowly mudblood you purchased at an auction yesterday?"

"Granger! Are you really objecting to politeness? I simply thought that you might want to know!"

Granger adjusted herself so that she was looking straight at him. "In that case, Malfoy, I thank you for your gentlemanly manner." She stood and walked to the bars and her eyes seemed to soften in a dangerous way. They turned upward so that her lashes seemed sweet and girlish. Draco's breath caught in his throat. "Thank you," she said, her voice no more than a whisper.

Had they been in a different situation, Draco might have considered her actions as an invitation to kiss. Indeed, for a moment he felt that ancient wandless magic that caused men to go weak in the knees whenever a pretty young thing gave them a tender look. But then again, a moment later, her eyes had hardened and she was sitting at the opposite end of the cell. Draco had to blink to try and decide if she had really been standing only a half-foot away just seconds ago.

"I…" his voice faltered. "I'm going now." He turned fully and his cloak billowed out behind him like an enormous bat. As soon as he had left and closed the door behind him, he stopped to catch his breath.

She was thirty-eight years old! Why, in heaven's name, would he suddenly feel such great attraction to a woman like her? Everything that could be wrong in a woman was easily found in her. She was too old, too scrawny, too dirty, too… everything! She was his enemy, a mudblood, and far beneath him… So why… why did she make him feel that way? As if… as if he actually had a heart beating beneath his breast.

There was no time to lose. Lily had been in the woods for a full week and in eminent danger. What compelled him to actually go to the rescue of Harry Potter's thirteen-year-old daughter from an alternate universe, he would never know. The truth, that is, the truth that he would never in any circumstance reveal to either Evander or Granger, was that the coin had landed on tails. Even now the silver sickle was sitting safely in his pocket.

Hurriedly, Draco left the house, grabbed his old flying carpet, and began making his way over the patch of trees that separated his home from that of his parents. He noticed a bird flying almost alongside him, but it swooped down and out of his sight. He had barely begun to cross over his parents' lawn when he noticed a figure on the ground below, waving him down.

Begrudgingly, Draco landed on the wide lawn. "Yes, Father?" Draco asked, as he came to a stop in front of the man's feet.

"Draco, I was just about to pay you a visit. Your mother wants you to come over for dinner tonight." The elder Malfoy's hair had turned white over the years, but he still kept it as long and tidy as ever. Draco had adopted his father's long hairstyle around the time that the Dark Lord's victory had become apparent.

"Not tonight, Father. Perhaps some other time?"

"Draco," Lucius replied, removing his spectacles and polishing them, "your mother's health is diminishing. You have already failed her request for grandchildren. I think you owe her this, at least."

Oh yes, the guilt talk. When his marriage to Antoine had ended so quickly without a Malfoy heir to be found, his mother had begun to complain. She wanted a grandchild, and quite badly too. Recently she had begun to cough up blood on a regular basis. Even the best healers had not been able to help her. "She will just have to wait for another night, Father. I'm busy. Now if you don't mind, I need to be somewhere." Draco began to pull up on the tassels of his carpet, but his father's cane shot out of nowhere and grounded him.

"Unless you are going to go pick up a mail-order bride, Draco, I think not. You _will_ be here at eight o'clock. _Do you understand?_"

"Fine!" Draco kicked his father's cane from his carpet and took off without a backwards glance. Now he began to fly a little more quickly. The days ended much earlier than they had before the war. It seemed to grow dark as early as three-thirty in the afternoon. Draco rose above the clouds. A group of birds flew below him. He swerved a good mile to the left to avoid flying directly over the Dark Lord's lair. It would never do to allow so many death-eaters to know of his plans.

Draco could get in very serious trouble if he were ever found out. He still wasn't exactly sure why he was risking so much for a family that was not even truly his. Evander was not his son. Granger was certainly not his wife. Lily Potter was not even close to being his daughter-in-law. Sharing a grandchild with Potter and Granger… what a disgusting thought.

The wind licked his face as he finally moved in to land in the woods. He rolled his carpet up and placed it in a pack on his back. Something alighted in a tree nearby. Now came the hard part—actually finding the silly girl.

Draco took out his wand and muttered a silencing spell, followed by lumos. He had never liked being in the woods before. He remembered his few forced ventures into the Forbidden Forest. But never mind that. It was not a full moon and he did have the cover of day, even if it were still quite dark. He trudged ahead looking back and forth and muttering locating charms.

It was actually probably a good thing that Lily had ended up in the woods. Here she would have food and water, and there was a lesser chance of her being picked up by the wrong sort of people. There were many rumors that those members of the resistance, a.k.a. the non-Death Eaters, who had not already suffered at the hands of the Dark Lord were more likely than not living in woods much like this one.

Draco froze. He had heard a twig snap. Deftly he spun around in the direction of the noise. His wand lit up a wild niffler, who had probably noticed his watch. Draco removed the sickle from his pocket and threw it away from him. Immediately, the niffler went for it. Draco turned again and continued his search. A moment later, the niffler ran past him with the coin in his mouth. On a hunch, Draco began to follow it. The niffler led him through the maze-like trees toward a clearing near the heart of the woods. The niffler paused and butted a knot in a tree with his head. The ground opened up and Draco gasped under his silence charm. A head of long black hair appeared from the staircase-like hole in the ground. A hand reached up to pet the niffler and take the coin. Quite suddenly, the girl spun around.

"Mr. Malfoy! Thank Merlin!" Lily cried, hoisting herself from the hole toward him. She wrapped her arms around him and began to cry.

A.N.: Are you happier with me now? Two chapters in two days, and this one is of a more decent length, though still quite short. I liked this chapter. Be sure to leave me lots of feedback. I'm probably only going to be able to write on Fridays and Saturdays, so that you know the schedule.


	10. Lily Potter

Sold-chapter 10-Lily Potter

By Marmalade Fever

Hermione sat as silently as she could. She was in a tree branch just above Malfoy and Lily. He had found her. It seemed like a miracle. But how had Lily managed to survive a whole week on her own? These days everything was a danger. Hermione crouched down to listen.

Draco finally managed to tear the girl away from him. He could see now why Evander had been so keen on rescuing her. She was a good bit taller than the boy, older, had delicate features, a long curtain of shining black hair, and the kind of eyes that could leave one breathless. Pretty or not, this was still the child of his eternal enemy, Harry Potter.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Lily asked, straightening herself. Evidently, she had known the other Draco Malfoy from her home. The initial level of trust that she had radiated was beginning to wear. Now that she had regained her composure, it became apparent that this Draco Malfoy was different. His hair was longer… and there was something akin to evil in his features. The niffler had gone down the staircase to hide.

"Yes?" Draco asked, straightening his mussed clothing.

"Has anyone managed to find your son? Is Evander all right?" the girl asked, tilting her head and giving him a scrutinizing look.

"Evander is at home. He's perfectly fine."

"You will be returning us to Hogwarts, won't you?"

Draco paused. Exactly how much did the girl know? It may have been that she hadn't noticed any differences between this world and the last as of yet. "All in good time," he answered at last, somewhat truthfully. Should the children be restored to their own world, there would be nothing stopping them from their return to Hogwarts. "But how are you?" Draco asked, trying to sound as familiar with her as possible.

Lily sighed, as if resigning from her worries. "I've been better. Goodness knows I could withstand much more than a week in a blackberry infested wood. Mostly I've just been bored out of my skull!" And now Draco was beginning to hear some of the Potter in her. Her father had always been restless, getting himself into situations and easing himself out of them as simply as snapping his fingers.

Above in the bushes, Hermione tilted her head in confusion. Blackberries? It did seem unseasonably warm in this part of the woods… but perhaps she was over thinking things.

"And what's this?" Draco asked, calmly, bending over the staircase that had appeared just moments ago from the ground.

"I'm not sure," Lily answered. "I saw the niffler open it when I first arrived."

"Mind if I take a peek down there before we leave?" Lily shrugged in reply, sitting down on a rock to wait.

Hermione folded her wings in irritation. She was equally, if not more interested in that staircase than Malfoy, and she couldn't follow!

Draco took a few steps down into the hidden room in the grove. It was dank. The room was empty except for a pile of dried leaves in the corner that looked as if it served as a bed. The room was scarcely bigger than the average bathroom. It had probably served as a hideout for some of the members of the resistance. It looked to have been deserted for some time.

Draco returned to the surface after testing the room for any magic concealments. Who knew? Maybe another Potter had lived awhile in that hole.

"Can we go now Mr. Malfoy?" Lily asked. She had her school pouch and had her wand in hand. "I tried to get the Knight Bus to pick me up every night, but nothing happened," she explained.

"Well," Draco replied, thinking, "you don't expect them to pick up passengers in the middle of a forest, do you?"

Lily wrinkled her forehead. "I guess not…"

"Well, come on, let's get going." Draco removed the carpet from his pack and set it on the ground.

"I thought magic carpets were illegal." Lily crossed her arms.

Draco had almost forgotten about that ancient law that had been abolished when Voldemort had come to power. "It's only illegal if you get caught," he replied, giving her a cheeky grin. It pained him to have to smile like that!

Lily just shrugged and sat down. "Are my parents looking for me?"

Draco bit his cheek to stop himself from frowning. "Of course. Your dad's been heading all sorts of searches and you mother has been apparating to see everyone she can think of." They had risen only a few feet now, and it was with great shock that Draco watched Lily slip back off the carpet and run away as fast as she could go. With only a moment's hesitation, he turned himself around and began his pursuit. What could he have possibly said?

The stun spell is a very good one, but requires aim. In a forest, full of trees and other objects, it is difficult to reach one's target. So it was with Draco Malfoy, as he had to swoop and dive while trying to get a clear shot at Miss Lily Potter. In the mean time, Hermione Granger had gone into a panic. If only she could reach Lily in time! It was with extreme trepidation that she returned to her human form in order to warn the girl.

"Lily!" she cried. Malfoy was closing in and had not yet noticed the third human in the woods. Hermione had alighted in Lily's path before changing form, and managed to catch the girl in her arms as she ran by. "Go with him! All will be explained later, just go!" she hissed, before rapidly changing form. She flew off as fast as she could to get out of eyesight.

Draco rounded a corner and came to an abrupt halt. The Potter girl was standing still, as if waiting for him. "What's wrong?" he asked, feigning confusion.

"It's… nothing. I just… I don't really know you all that well, and I guess that age-old rule, 'never take a ride from strangers,' kicked in. I'm back to my senses now, though," she said, looking embarrassed.

Draco sighed with relief. "Well, come on then. You don't mind spending the night at my house, do you?"

Lily shook her head and sat down beside him on the carpet. Once again they ascended, and a bird followed their trail.

Draco flew them back much faster than he had flown on his way to the woods. It was getting dark fast.

Hermione, by sheer luck, managed to arrive first, and flew through Evander's open window, before hastily making her descent to the dungeons. She had barely had time to calm her breathing before she heard steps reverberating throughout the house.

"Evander's in his room," Draco told the Potter child, leading her up the stairs. He only hoped that she was either unfamiliar with the room's location or that he had managed to guess correctly concerning which room to designate as his hostage son's. He rapped at the door and the boy answered, though he allowed Draco to turn the knob, since he had, of course, been keeping it locked.

"Lily," Evander gasped, relief flooding his face.

"Catch her up on the current events, will you?" Draco asked. He allowed Lily to enter the room before he closed the door, locking it once more.

A.N.: Luckily, I found a few hours this afternoon to write. I was going to yesterday, but then my computer needed fixing. I was going to leave you hanging for another week. (And I know you would all be thrilled with that, eh?)


	11. To be in the Loop

Sold-Chapter 11-To be in the Loop

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: July 16 is coming! Yay! I probably won't update once it comes until I finish reading. (Not that I expect any of you to tear away from the book for fan fiction anyway…)

"Lily," Evander said, gravely.

"Evander," she replied. "What on Earth is going on here?" The elder Malfoy had long since left their presence.

Evander sighed. "You had better sit down for this one." It was such a relief to see her again. Even after a week on her own, she still seemed perfectly well groomed. She sat. "That man isn't my father."

"I gathered that much, but who is he then? A long-lost twin? Or maybe we've gone back in time and that was your grandfather!" She laughed, ruefully.

"No, we think this is an alternate universe," he replied, straight-faced.

"Alternate universe?" Evander would have imagined that Lily would be shocked, frightened, and disbelieving. Instead, she merely looked excited. "Finally!"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, you don't understand! You know what it's like to live in the shadow of a legend? My dad's done so many amazing things, and, quite frankly, I've been bored stiff!"

"Bored stiff?" Evander muttered to himself. "Lily, I don't think that _you_ understand. In this timeline… Voldemort is alive!"

Lily went pale. "Really?"

"Really, Lily. This world is nowhere near ours. I think… I think the difference is that in our world, your dad won the war. In this one, well, I guess he didn't."

"Is he… alive?"

"I think he's missing. I have a bad feeling that You-Know-Who sent after us."

"This is bad. This is really bad, isn't it?"

Evander nodded. "My mom is here, but she isn't married to anyone, nevertheless my father."

"I saw her. She was in the woods, but then she turned into a bird. She must be an animagus."

"Yeah…"

"So, what about the muggles?"

"I think they're almost all gone."

"So… my mum?"

Evander nodded. Lily had to turn her head away from him. It was hard to watch the girl he had been in love with since he was a little boy cry. They didn't say much of anything for a few hours. It was just about eight o'clock when someone knocked at their door. It was his "mother."

"Mrs. Malfoy," Lily greeted, automatically. Hermione frowned. It bothered her greatly to think that anyone would feel a need to address her as such.

"Call me Hermione," she asked, sitting on the floor. "Evander, he's gone for a few hours. He's eating dinner with your grandparents."

Evander sighed with relief. "Should I call the house-elves and have them bring you something?"

"No, no. They already brought me dinner."

"Mrs., I mean, Hermione?" Lily asked. "If you aren't married to _him_, then why are you here?"

Hermione tilted her head the way she would as a bird. "He found out that Evander was our child, so he brought me here to help solve the mystery."

"And where were you before?"

Hermione viewed her critically before leaning back against the door. "You look so much like your father, do you know that?"

"That's what they say. It must be the hair color."

"And the eyes," Evander volunteered.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "and the eyes."

"So, where were you?" Lily insisted.

Hermione sighed. "I've been imprisoned for several years now. Malfoy bought me at an auction."

"An _auction_?" Lily asked, eyes wide.

"The world is a very scary place, my dear."

"What sort of auction?"

"The kind where bigoted fools sell those they think aren't worthy because of their heritage." They were silent for several minutes as the reality of this new world sunk in.

"Did you say he's eating dinner with my grandparents?" Evander asked, after a while. Hermione nodded. "I bet they aren't too terribly different in this timeline. Maybe a little bit happier is all. How did you find out he was having dinner with them? Did he tell you or something?"

"No… I was in my swallow form when he was talking with Lucius." Hermione gave a very small smirk. "He's disappointed that your father doesn't have an heir."

"Let's just hope he doesn't get any big ideas about pretending that I'm his long lost son, then," Evander muttered, smiling a little as well.

"No, no… it would be too tricky to hide your heritage, or, should I say, my heritage." Hermione looked thoughtful. "Do you know how your real father managed to convince your real grandfather to allow my counterpart to remain married to him after they eloped?"

"Well," Evander started, rubbing his temples to help him remember, "for one thing, they were married by magic."

"Married by magic?" It wasn't everyday that Hermione came across something to do with magic that she had never heard of.

"People who are married by magic can only be divorced by equal hatred," Evander said. "It's not very common, but it prevents people like my granddad from splitting them up."

"Couldn't he have killed me?" Hermione asked, not paying attention to the absurdity of the question.

"My mum said something about the media once," Evander said, shrugging.

"The media?" Hermione repeated. The other timeline was getting more intriguing to her by the minute. But there were other more important things to discover from these children. "Lily," she asked tentatively, "how did your father win the battle?"

Lily stretched leisurely before starting her long explanation.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy had just sat down to dinner at his parents' house.

A.N.: Okay, I've given up on having long, elaborate chapters. I just don't work that way. Thank you again to all of you patient people out there. Please don't think that I'm really snobby or something from my author's notes. I'm just busy. Oh, and let me know if I contradict myself!

Also, can anyone identify where I got the quote, "The world is a very scary place, my dear?"


	12. Dining With the Malfoys

Sold-Chapter 12-Dining With the Malfoys

By Marmalade Fever

A.n.: The quote, "The world is a very scary place, my dear," is from a song that is played at the beginning of the Wide Window book on tape. Yeah, I really didn't expect anyone to get that one. Way too obscure. "It whirls and it twirls and outer space…"

It was very dark out once Draco Malfoy arrived at Malfoy Manor. His father had left a lantern burning at the front door for him. It was a very knock-kneed elf that answered the door and led him to the first floor sitting room.

"Draco, darling!" his mother doted, gesturing for him to come and give her a hug. She had grown feeble in her old-age. It pained him to see her looking so helpless. "No ring on your hand, I see?" she asked, inspecting him.

Instantly, Draco stiffened. "No mother…"

"Draco!" Lucius greeted, stepping into the room. The white-haired man clapped a hand on his son's back. "So good of you to join us after your stern insistence on a different night."

"It wasn't like you gave me much choice, father," Draco replied, frowning.

"Now, now, Draco. There's no reason to sound so displeased. Tell me, what were you doing out on your carpet this afternoon?"

Draco didn't let his face give him away. "I was on my way to Merman's Cross to pick up a few supplies for a potion I'm working on."

"Oh?" his father asked, polishing his spectacles. "What potion? Perhaps I could be of some assistance?"

"No need. I already finished making the drought. My walls developed some of that green mold that comes from brewing and I wanted to make a potion to clean it away."

"Wouldn't a simple cleaning spell work?" his mother asked, craning her head toward him with effort.

"No, it was especially well spread out and I wanted to ensure that it was gone for good." His parents looked satisfied with his answer.

"Tell me Draco," his father continued, "did you make any purchases at the Mudblood Auction? I did so wish to attend…"

Draco smirked. His father had been running an errand for the Dark Lord that day and had been very put off when he had missed the event. "Actually, I did make one acquisition."

"Anyone we would know?" his mother asked, though she frowned at the idea of buying a Mudblood for any reason.

"Oh yes. I happened to get the grand prize, or the booby prize, depending on how you look at it."

"Who, Draco?" His father was peering at him intently.

"Miss Hermione Granger, the biggest Mudblood of them all." Draco grinned.

"A woman?" his mother asked, intrigued.

"A woman," his father confirmed, looking thoughtful. "I can't believe she was left alive, being such an important member of the resistance, not to mention so close to the Boy. She was at his right hand during the war."

"Draco, what are you going to do with her?" his mother asked, looking confused. "Surely you have enough house-elf labor?"

"Oh no, Mother, certainly I'm not going to set her to work polishing silver. No, I'm much more interested in her mind."

"Her mind?" Apparently, his mother took this comment in the wrong way, having raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"She's one of the most brilliant witches of all time, Mother! Imagine how wasteful it would be to just get rid of her. She may still hold the key to finding Potter."

"Watch your tongue!" his mother cried, frantically. Calling Harry Potter by name was as bad now as calling He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Voldemort.

"Fine, she may hold the key to finding the Boy…"

"How is the Mudblood? How as imprisonment treated her?" his father asked, curiously.

"She's frail, but she's no where near death. She was always too spunky for that."

"Is she tame?" Mrs. Malfoy asked.

Draco smirked at the choice of words. "Depends on your definition. She did bite my hand fairly hard."

Lucius looked bemused. "Really? I would have liked to see that. You wouldn't mind if I came over and took at look at her in the morning, would you?"

"You sound as if she were a Labrador," Draco commented. "But why not? I'm keeping her in the dungeon. Mother, I don't suppose you have any clothes to donate to her? I would so like to burn the present set she's wearing."

Narcissa looked conspiratorial. "Hmm, perhaps a new set of clothing might turn your mind toward the lady?" The confused looks of the men caused her to continue. "Perhaps the grandchild I have been requesting isn't so far off? It isn't as if it's an everyday occurrence that there's a female in your house, Draco."

"Narcissa!" Lucius scolded. "How could you say such a thing! Have you forgotten whom you're speaking of? This is no upper society witch, but a thing below dirt." He turned to Draco for back up.

Draco nodded slowly. "But…"

"But?" Lucius bellowed in consternation.

"She may be below us, but she does have a very brilliant mind, none the less. Imagine the how great the product of our combined bloodlines would be! And," he added, more softly, as if afraid for his life, "she always was very beautiful as a girl."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing! Are you seriously considering this insanity? Have you forgotten her heritage?" his father huffed.

"Of course I haven't, I'm merely saying that mother is correct. If I'm to produce an heir, I can't waste my time with trivialities. It must be soon. I'll be forty years old in a couple of years, and there must be someone around to raise the child." Unwittingly, his thoughts had strayed to Evander. He was impressed greatly by the boy's cunning and good looks. If he were to have him on his side… or perhaps a younger version of him… imagine the possibilities!

His mother nodded vigorously, looking excited. His father was still looking doubtful. "Are you attracted to her, or something? You seem oddly agreeable with this foolishness. No son of mine would have given the matter a second thought."

"Fear no further, I am absolutely disgusted by her appearance. I have a hunch that she's dropped below one-hundred pounds. And then there's her eyes."

"Her eyes?" his mother asked, looking depressed once more.

"They look haunted. Looking at her is like looking at a corpse."

Just then, the knock-kneed house-elf announced that dinner was to be served in the dining room. "Father," Draco continued, as they walked, "I've been thinking about the Malfoy Marriage Contract lately. Tell me, what do you suppose would have happened if there had only been one candidate left?"

"That's easy Draco. You would have had to marry her, of course. Has all this talk of the mudblood left you considering marriage, now?"

"I was just wondering what you would have done had I been forced to marry someone of less than honorable heritage."

"Had the situation arrived, I suppose there would not have been any reason for me to object. I certainly couldn't have allowed you to die."

"And," Draco continued, as they began their first course, "what if there hadn't been one candidate, but two, and supposing I had decided to elope with the lesser one. Would you have tried to stop me?"

"Draco, all this talk of what-ifs is giving me a head-ache. But of course I would try to stop you!"

"And supposing we had been married by magic? Would you have killed the girl?"

"So long as the Dark Lord's reign could protect me from suspicions, of course! Now really Draco, why not pick a new subject? You're acting quite peculiar tonight."

"Am I Father?" Draco ate his meal in silence. His thoughts had drifted to those two odd moments in which he had felt such immense attraction to Hermione Granger. He knew it was wrong. Perhaps it was only his subconscious dwelling on Evander's story? He was sure now that the boy was telling the truth. In another time, perhaps he and Granger might be meant for one another.

His own odd behavior was starting to disturb him. There were plenty of pureblooded women out there for him to choose from. And besides this, why was he being so… nice? Why had he saved the Potter girl? Why had he gone out of his way to let Granger know that he was leaving?

Perhaps it was time to run a little experiment of his own. Perhaps it was time to give way to contrasting emotions, and discover what it was like to kiss the Mudblood.

A.N.: Wow, I liked this chapter! And I liked that last little statement, don't you? Okay, so I don't want to try and figure out how Harry won the war until after I read HBP, but I also don't want to leave all of you hanging for so long. Hmm… What do you think? Should I skip over Lily's explanation for a while and skip directly to the experiment? Some of you asked if I was planning on putting in spoilers. My answer to that is that I will just have to read the book and find out if there's anything that will affect what I write. I'm terrified that something's going to happen that will make my entire plot obsolete. I can handle minor inconsistencies, I suppose. Hopefully nothing major will be different, like all those poor pre-OOTP fics with Sirius in them. In the words of Pooh, "oh bother."


	13. Perfection

Sold-Chapter 13-Perfection

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: Please note that this will be my last chapter until I have finished reading HBP. I have decided to put off the "How Harry Saved the World" question for a while.

Draco arrived back at his home, wondering if he had gone completely mad. It was nearing ten o'clock as he made his way down to the dungeon. His father was planning on visiting in the morning to "inspect the Mudblood." What had that conversation at dinner been about? He certainly could find a better woman. No problem. He couldn't very well continue the Malfoy line with tainted blood. Right? But just the same, he was still curious. It was so seldom that he felt that sort of attraction toward anyone.

And then there was that single, daunting fact. In Evander's timeline, he had been married to the wretch… by his own volition. The thought had become firmly imbedded in his brain. Perhaps he was destined to be with her. Perhaps she was the one thing in his life that had been missing. Despite the fact that he was extremely rich, powerful, and overall well off, he was miserable. The world the Dark Lord created was not what it was cracked up to be. The genocide of the muggles and the persecution of the others had not left him beaming, but instead had left him… lonely. What was the use of being better than everyone else if there was no one left to be better than? What did that hags, the scum, and the other lowlife care if he had property? They could simply take what they pleased, without anyone to stop them.

No, this world was actually quite boring. Sure, he could do anything he wished, but was that true? If Potter had won the battle and the Dark Lord had been defeated, Draco Malfoy could have had greatness. He could have married anyone he wanted; Evander was the living proof. He could have broken away from his father. The man would have been powerless in the face of all those goody-goodies.

And so, Draco Malfoy was ready to conduct a little experiment. He wanted a glimpse into what his alternate life might have been like. He wanted to see what it was like to hold a woman in his arms who didn't just want him for his power and bloodline.

But he was missing one vital component to his plan. Hermione Granger absolutely, positively hated him. She would never be willing to be a part of this… experiment. But maybe… what if… what if she found a way to not only return the children to their world, but the two of them as well? There really was nothing left here to fight for. There was no good, only evil and trash.

What was he thinking? Draco banged his head against the wall several times. He had arrived outside of the dungeon cell, and he could see through the little barred window that Granger was lying on her back, resting.

Draco opened the door and entered, taking a deep breath.

Hermione rolled over when she heard the door's squeaky hinges and in her tired state thought at first that the children had come to tell her something. Indeed, the words were on the tip of her tongue, "He'll be here any minute, go upstairs!" But she didn't say anything, for it wasn't the children. It was Malfoy.

"You're back. I hope you redirected Lily into her own room for the night?" she asked, sitting up to glare at him. She had managed to regain much of her old strength. During the two hours that Malfoy had been gone, she had taken time to raid his medicine cabinet and swallow several revitalizing potions.

"Only minutes ago," Malfoy replied, briskly. He looked odd. Not that he didn't usually look odd in some way or another, but he really did look odd. He had a look on his face. In three quick strides, he arrived before the bars.

"Was there something you wanted to discuss with me?" she asked, frowning. It had been a long day and all of that flying had worn her out.

"I've been thinking," he said, tilting his head to one side.

"So it is possible. Good for you," she retorted quickly.

"That isn't funny, Granger. I actually have a bit of a proposition for you."

"Go on."

"You see, I haven't been able to get Evander's story out of my head. The way he explains it, it sounds as if our counterparts were… well, you know."

"No, for once I don't. What's your point, Malfoy?"

Hermione was a little frightened as Malfoy did something funky with his eyes so that he was staring at her with amusement. "Kiss me," he said, quietly.

Hermione jumped in surprise. She certainly hadn't expected that. "What? No!" She shivered at the very thought.

"Come now, it isn't as if you aren't curious as well. Besides, who are you to deny an experiment in cross-dimensional repercussions? This is for science's sake, Miss Granger."

Draco had never seen her look so flustered, and certainly not during the last two days. She had finally dropped her "dead" façade and was looking frightened. She finally looked like a human being again.

"Do you remember just a few short hours ago when you thanked me for telling you that I was retrieving Miss Potter?"

"Yes." Granger was still shaking.

"Weren't you the one who practically flirted with me?"

Granger lowered her eyes, as if in awe. "Is that how you interpreted that?"

"Is that not what you had been trying to portray? And do you remember when I left here so abruptly this morning? Do you know why that was?"

She shook her head. "I felt something." Draco turned his head to avoid her gaze. "Attraction."

Granger looked as if she were about to go into hysterics. "But you can't possibly be attracted to me! I'm… I'm… and you're… ARGH!"

"Just one kiss, Miss Granger. For science. And please, do remember that we can do this the easy way, with myself as a gentleman, or the hard way."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"If you can say that with all honesty, then you don't seem to know me as well as you pretend."

"And what do I get out of this if I'm willing?" she asked, looking up.

Draco looked thoughtful. "How about a new set of clothing?"

Granger looked down, as if contemplating the proposal. "There's something else you don't know," she finally muttered, looking dejected.

Intrigued, Draco turned to her with interest. "Which is?"

"I've never been kissed," she mumbled.

"You've never…" Draco caught his breath. "Seriously?" Now that was difficult to believe. The woman was thirty-eight years old, after all. "But… how can that be?"

"Well, contrary to popular belief, Victor Krum only kissed my forehead. I never saw him in person again after fourth year. And once the Dark Lord took over, there was just never any time to get into a relationship…" Draco let out a low whistle. Granger uttered a low chortle. "And apparently I didn't fair much better in the other timeline. Evander told me that that kiss on our two-week anniversary was my first one then, too. So now you know. I'm a failure at love in any timeline."

A surge of emotion swept through Draco's chest. In one timeline, he had been the one and only man to ever kiss her, and in this one… he had the exact same opportunity. The information swirled through his head. He had made his mind up once and for all. But then her last words came to him again. "Failure? Hardly. You were married to me, after all." He didn't know what possessed him to say it. He just suddenly felt an urge to be compassionate to the poor woman. He unlocked the door and took her hands up in his own. "I don't know what's come over me," he added, before taking her chin gently in his hand and staring into her once again lively brown eyes. He stared at her lips for a moment. They were shapely, full, and he could only think of one word to describe them: perfection. He bent his head and captured them with his own. Once he had done so, he almost couldn't get himself to stop. How could he have ever kissed another woman and thought that there was nothing better out there? Hermione Granger was, in one simple word, perfection.

A.N.: Aww! That was so sweet! I loved this chapter. I hope you did too! Now all of you have fun reading Half-blood Prince. (And I sincerely hope no one kisses Hermione in this one, or I'll be very discouraged. Oh well, it's AU anyway, I guess.)


	14. Lucius' Visit

Sold-Chapter 14- Lucius' Visit

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: Well, I finally finished reading. Due to the amount of new information, I think I'll continue Sold with as little HBP influence as possible. (Though I must warn that there will be some trivial information, but I'm not going to go back and make any changes.) To those who asked, AU means Alternate Universe.

Granger opened her eyes and slapped Draco so hard that he stumbled backward and onto the ground. "Stay away from me!" she hissed, eyes large.

Draco wasted no time and left the angry woman's cell, smirking to himself. "Oh, Granger?" he added, as he was about to leave. "My father will be visiting in the morning. Don't forget." He continued down the passage and up the stairs to his bedroom. That kiss had been entirely worth it. He now fully understood why his counterpart had married her, with chemistry like that! So it hadn't been love at all. Everything was making much more sense now. And Granger had certainly earned herself a new outfit.

It was ten o'clock in the morning when Lucius Malfoy showed up. He was wearing robes of slate gray to compliment his eyes. Draco had hastily double-checked the locks on both Evander and Lily's doors. "Father, how good of you to come!" Draco said, with false emotion in his voice.

"Your mother sent this package along," the elder man said, with a grimace.

Draco took the brown-paper parcel in his hands and slid the string off. Inside was a pair of bright, peach colored ladies' dress robes. "I think she's gone a bit far…" Draco muttered, holding the robes up for inspection. He couldn't help but notice that the coloring would match Granger's complexion quite well. "Come along, she's in the dungeon. I just had Kobby send her some breakfast a few minutes ago."

"You know, Draco, when I said that you should catch up with your old school-mates, this isn't entirely what I meant."

"No, Father? Why, I was under the impression that it was," Draco said, smirking to show that he was only jesting. "And here we are." They had arrived outside of the dungeon doors and Draco's father wasted no time in going in. Draco followed.

Granger was leaning against the back wall of her cell, eating a bowl of porridge. When she caught sight of her visitors, she made no move to put the bowl down. Draco noticed that her eyes had that familiar gleam of the dead in them, once more. Draco nodded to her, trying to withhold a smirk, and she nodded back, continuing to eat.

"So this is what has become of the know-it-all mudblood from the days of yore," Lucius said, eying the woman with keen interest. "You're right, Draco, she is skeletal. Practically nothing but skin and bones and porridge. You had me a little worried last night, you know."

Draco felt panic seize him. His father was speaking in his normal tone, and was not intent on hiding his conversation from Granger at all.

"Well, you've seen her now, Father. Let's go somewhere a little more comfortable, shall we?"

"Don't be in such a hurry, son! You might as well give her that outfit your mother sent along." Without waiting, Lucius took the dress robes from him and tucked them through the bars in the cell. "My wife sends this, mudblood. Take care to not send spittle down the front. I can assure you that it will be one of the last kind acts ever bestowed on you."

Granger fixed her evil eye onto Lucius and Draco was pleased to see the unease that gripped his father. She stood, swaggered forward, took up the dress, and said in all politeness, "Thank you." Her gaze then swept from Lucius' face to Draco's and she was back at the rear wall of her cell so fast that Draco thought he must have blinked.

"Draco," his father said, lowering his voice, "don't you have any torture devices? I was sure you did."

Draco cast a look at Granger and quickly muttered a muffliato spell at her. "There are other ways to skin a cat. Besides, what need have I for torture? I don't have any information to draw out of her, and there's always verita serum for that."

"And what other use is there for keeping her if you don't even use torture? I really don't like this setup, Draco. It's unnatural."

"I told you, Father, it's her mind that requires preservation. Do you know how she did on her O.W.L.'s? Ten out-standings and only one excellent! We can't risk the damage of a brain like that!"

"No, I suppose not. But I still don't like this, Draco. Say that you do meet a woman soon and you marry her. She won't be very happy by the presence of another woman in her dungeons."

"Quite frankly Father, I think that can be dealt with at the proper time. And who's to say I will meet anyone? There is a dangerously small crop of worthy women these days. I think it's safe to say that the entire human race is close to extinction! Unless you wouldn't mind if I married a hag?"

"Of course I'd mind! Just remember, Draco, we must have an heir! You are the very last of the Malfoy line. If you wish, I'll begin making a list of eligible women and if worse comes to worst, we'll imperius one into marrying you!"

"Really Father? You wouldn't rather use a love potion?" Draco asked, wryly.

"Just find somebody! Anybody! Murder a few husbands if you have to! Just produce an heir before your mother dies. Do you understand?"

"Of course." Draco wheeled his father out the door and returned him upstairs to speak a little more privately.

Hermione shook her head. Draco had cast a muffliato spell on her. Just wonderful. She felt like she had sand in her ears. She had finished her porridge and set to work trying to decipher their conversation through their lips, but to no effect. Now that they had left, she turned her attention to the colorful material beside her. She slipped from her rotting overalls into the soft fabric of the dress robes and admired herself. They had been charmed to fit the wearer exactly. She sighed, though she couldn't hear it, and pulled her fingers through her hair. So this was her reward for being kissed by Draco Malfoy.

A.N.: I'm so sorry this was so short. I was called in to work and had two and a half hours less to work on this than normal. TTFN everyone.


	15. Traces of Residue

Sold, Chapter 15, Traces of Residue

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: I think I finally figured out where this is headed! Yay! Oh, and I think it will be very clear in this chapter that I'm not following HBP guidelines. Have you all finished reading? I'm terrified that I'm going to spoil something.

Minerva McGonagall stood from her hunched position. Below her, on a table, were several well-preserved samples of grass, air, and earth. She had been working, night and day, alongside Professors Dumbledore and Snape, trying to identify the spell cast over a week before. She wiped the sweat off of her brow with a handkerchief and smiled genuinely. She had found it. On the grass were trace amounts of magical residue. Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful! Severus quickly scraped the residue into a boiling cauldron. In just a moment, the spell would be revealed and they would be able to discern how to bring the children back, or at least send them instructions. Yes, everything was going better than planned.

…

Harry and Penelope Potter and Draco and Hermione Malfoy sat together in the back room of Flourish and Blotts. Hermione had kept her job, although she and her husband had more than enough money to thrive on.

"Did Dumbledore send you the good news?" Harry asked, though he still looked pained. He had been leafing half-heartedly through a novel on Herbology by Antoine and Neville Longbottom.

"Just this morning," Hermione said, nodding. Draco's arm was draped over her shoulder and he gave her a little squeeze. "So it was a trans-dimensional summoning charm. I've read about them, of course, but up until now they've been little more than theory. Athena the Ashen claimed to have used one once, but no one believed her. All she had to show was an untied shoe. She said that it came from a dimension in which she had decided to wear flip-flops that morning instead."

"I suppose she did have an extra left shoe," Draco added. "And I think the tied one had a piece of bubblegum on the bottom that the other didn't."

"Hermione, I don't quite understand what Dumbledore means in this letter," Harry said, pulling a piece of well-worn parchment from his pocket. "He says that he's figured out how to get them back, but it'll be difficult to do because they've changed locations, or something?"

Hermione nodded, grimly. "Say that the second Athena, who had worn the flip-flops, had wanted to get her shoe back. She would be able to figure out where the shoe had been sent, but she couldn't track where the shoe had moved to afterward."

"And there's no chance they could have stayed in the same place?" Harry asked.

"Well, so long as all of their limbs are in working order, I think they would have moved at least a little. They would need to be in a fifteen foot radius to get pulled back, and even then everything else in that circle would come back too."

"I see," Harry said, sighing. "And what's this other thing, about sending them instructions to go back to their original destination?"

"It's simple, Potter," Draco answered. "Dumbledore's going to write down explicit instructions, place a charm on it so that the note goes directly to them, and then on a specified date and time, he'll try to get them back. If they get the note and it won't work for them, he's also including instructions on sending a reply letter, instead. They might be able to give him new coordinates."

"This all seems so complicated," Penelope said, rubbing her temples. "There isn't an easier way?"

"If there's an easier way, it's more dangerous. We have to put our faith in Dumbledore to know what's best," Harry told her, holding her hand in his.

"I just hope that no one intercepts the message. Who knows how far they could have moved…" Hermione said, staring at her knuckles.

"What worries me is who exactly cast the spell in the first place. Be he friend or foe?" Draco asked. He had gone paler over the last week and a half than normal.

"I don't want to think about it," Harry said, tossing the herbology book aside. "I wonder if there's a way to find out exactly how that dimension differs from our own. I want to know what our kids are up against."

"Well, the original caster is the only one who would be able to figure that out. He was able to figure out what different dimension he wanted to draw them from, by judging what difference he wanted between them. We don't know what the difference is, we just know how to get to that other dimension," Hermione said, cradling her head in her hands.

"I wonder if it would be a good idea to send a team to retrieve them. Maybe we could…?" Harry asked, but stopped when he saw the look on Hermione's face.

"Harry, do you have any idea how dangerous that could be? We don't know what we might be facing. And don't forget that one of the children is _yours_. Who knows, this might be a big plot to get to you." Hermione's face froze and she snapped her fingers. "That's it! I bet you that whoever it was just wanted Lily and not Evander! Don't you see, they're trying to get to you, Harry!"

Harry's face screwed up in confusion. "I think we're missing too many of the details to jump to conclusions. If they had wanted me, why not just send one of those balls of lightning after _me_ in the first place?"

"Oh, I don't know!" Hermione wailed, bursting into tears.

"Shh," Draco said, trying his best to console her. "Go home, Potter, you've caused enough damage. We'll figure this all out later." Harry gave him an "I didn't do anything" look, but left with Penelope, nonetheless. "It'll be all right. It'll be all right. I've got you. Dumbledore will get Evander and Lily back. Don't worry."

…

Professor Dumbledore stretched his arms in front of him. He had just written a very detailed letter for the two children, charmed not to let anyone besides them or a blood relative open it. He took up his wand, stared steadily at the letter, and muttered a spell. Before his eyes, he saw a large ball of lightning form around the letter, but then something odd happened. The letter split, as if undergoing mitosis, creating two twin letters before disappearing in a burst of light.

Back at the other dimension, two letters began to zoom toward the smaller of the Malfoy Manors. One came from the woods to the north, another came through a window in Malfoy Manor.

A.N.: Hmm, well that was certainly a pleasant break from the dreary world of Sold! Tell me what you think. Thank you all!


	16. Instructions

Sold-Chapter 16-Instructions

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: No more updates for two weeks, kids. I'll be out of state.

Narcissa Malfoy craned her head as she stared out of her window. She could have sworn she had just seen something white flying past… She rubbed her eyes and a moment later she saw the thing again. Or was it a second thing? Maybe she was in a worse condition than she had originally thought. Or maybe it had just been a bird. A dove, perhaps. Nothing to worry about. Nothing at all. Nonetheless, she went to her medicine cabinet and took a couple of little pink pills before she took her nap. Her hands were shaking.

Lucius Malfoy heard a rustle of wind above his head as he made his way toward his home after his visit to Draco's. Stupid birds. No respect for private property at all! He would really have to install an intruder net to fry the next thing that tried to land on his begonias. Another rustle went by and he had half a mind to shoot at it with his wand, but why waste the energy? Why not waste the energy, though? He whipped himself around and aimed at a white thing soaring through the air. It fell to the ground in a charred heap. Why, it was nothing but a scrap of paper! He poked at it with his cane, but only one word was legible, and that one word made his heart flutter: Albus.

Evander had had an eventful morning so far. He had picked the lock on Lily's door and together they had spied on his father and grandfather as they sat together in the parlor. But now the dreadful old man had gone and he and Lily were now sitting together in his room, playing with an old deck of exploding snap Lily had found in her room. It was so old, in fact, that the exploding bit it performed barely managed to singe his knuckles.

"Ev, what's that?" Lily asked, out of the blue.

"What?" Evander asked, his heart soaring every time she used his nickname.

"Outside the window," she said, pointing. Sure enough, beating against the glass was a crumpled piece of parchment. "Go open it!" she instructed, sitting up straighter. Evander got up and slid the window open and the parchment soared right into his hand. He smoothed it out and took a look.

"Merlin! You know what this is?" he asked, quickly lowering his voice.

"What?" Lily asked, stepping over for a better look.

"It's a letter from Dumbledore, addressed to us!" he said, waving it about and doing a little jig.

"Dumbledore? Our Dumbledore?" Lily cried, jumping up and down a little as well.

"Listen to this!" Evander said, as he began to read.

_Dear Miss Lily Potter and Mr. Evander Malfoy,_

_If you are reading this, excellent! As you may know, the anomaly that occurred at 9:15 AM on Tuesday the twenty-second of September sent you to a different dimension by means of a trans-dimensional summoning charm. We are not aware of the differences between the dimensions, but we have figured out a way to get you back._ (Evander and Lily cheered.) _Please go to the location you arrived at on the aforementioned morning. We will retrieve you at 7:27 AM on Friday the second of October. You must be within fifteen feet of the your arrival point. If, for any reason, this does not work for you, DO NOT GO. Below are instructions on how to send us a reply letter. If we do not receive a letter from you, we will go ahead with the plan for October second._

_To send a reply letter: (And I do hope you still have your wands.)_

_Write as much information as possible so that we can help you on the back of this sheet of parchment. It has been pre-charmed to return to us if you do the following:_

_Tap all four corners of the parchment with your wand, beginning with the upper left and going counter-clockwise. Say your full name(s) clearly. Say your birth date(s). Lastly, say the name of your favorite sweet._

_We hope to have you back as soon as possible!_

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Albus Dumbledore_

"I think we're going to have to send a reply letter," Evander said, flatly, as he finished reading.

"Why?" Lily asked, rereading the letter.

"I don't think they realize that we were sent to different locations. We don't know if we can go to either one or if we're supposed to go to Voldemort's Lair or what."

"Right," Lily agreed, nodding her head. "You think of everything, Ev. I just figured we'd go back to the woods. It's certainly much safer there than at your grandparents' house."

"The problem now is that we need a wand. What do you reckon my 'dad' will do if I ask for his help?"

"Dunno. Your mum would be happy to help, though she certainly doesn't have a wand. Say, I wonder if she'd like to go with us?" Lily said, looking thoughtful.

"You might have something there," Evander said, nodding. "Wait a minute though, tomorrow is Friday!" He jumped up. "We need to get a reply to them right away. If that spell is sent to Voldemort's, they might get a few Death Eater's back instead of us."

"Okay, let's split up. I'll look for a wand, and you keep your dad busy. All right?" Lily asked, as she went toward the door.

"All right."

Hermione sat alone in her dungeon cell. The muffliato spell had finally worn off and she could hear again. She had just been contemplating turning into a swallow and having a nice little fly around the cell when who should come barging in but Malfoy.

"Granger!" he bellowed. "Do you know what your son just did?"

"So now he's my son, is he?" Hermione asked, looking amused.

"Never mind that! He just set all of my house-elves free! That's what!"

Hermione burst out laughing. She couldn't help herself. It was the funniest thing she had ever heard of. She had to grip her sides because they were aching. "So," she gasped, "why are you telling me?"

"Because—" but he didn't tell her why. Instead he tilted his head. "You're wearing your new robes?"

Hermione nodded. "Is there a problem with that?"

"N-no," he said, his cheeks tinged with pink.

"Malfoy, your house-elves, remember? I guess this proves he's your son once and for all. The house-elves accepted him as their master."

"And your son, too. What was that thing… spew?" His eyes tore painfully away from her toward a blank wall.

"S.P.E.W.," she said, simply. They stared at one another in silence. Down the hall, voices echoed.

"Mum!"

"Mrs., Miss, Hermione!" another voice echoed. The two children tore into the room, stopping dead at the sight of Malfoy.

"HOW ON EARTH DID YOU GET OUT, AGAIN?" he roared. "AND WHERE'D YOU GET THAT WAND?"

Lily held the wand in defiance, aiming it at Malfoy's heart. "Never you mind, Mr. Malfoy. Accio wand!" His wand zoomed into her hand from his breast pocket. Malfoy's jaw dropped, as did Hermione's. "Now, into the cell with you and let Ev's mum out."

"No!" Malfoy stormed.

"Leave him alone, Lily," Evander said. "He's all right." He turned to his parents. "We've just had a letter from Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore?" Hermione mouthed, shocked.

"Here mum, read it." Lily unlocked the door to the cell and Evander handed her the paper.

"What does it say?" Malfoy roared, still being help at wand-point by Harry Potter's daughter.

"We need to send a reply!" Hermione said, running her hands through her hair. "A trans-dimensional summoning charm!"

"We want you to go with us," Evander said, taking Hermione's hand in his own.

"Trans-dimensional…" Malfoy repeated. "I'm going too!" he roared.

The three other occupants of the dungeon turned to him. "It's your call, Evander," Hermione said. Lily nodded.

"All right, Dad, all right."

A.N.: Ladies and gentleman, a longer chapter! As I said at the beginning, no more updates for two weeks. Then school starts on the 29th and who knows what my writing schedule will be like, especially since I'm going to be taking a writing class. Ahh! I'm in college! Toodles, all!


	17. What's My Favorite Sweet?

Sold-Chapter 17-What's My Favorite Sweet?

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: Yes, I'm back. Don't look so stunned!

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim Willow.

Lucius' heart raced as he entered the chambers of his master, the Dark Lord. He was trembling. He kept his head turned downward, resolutely. He would not do anything to anger his lord if he could help it.

"Lucius," the chilling voice said, calmly. "What brings you to my lair?"

"My lord," Lucius said, trying to keep his voice calm and level, "I have come across an object that may be of some crucial importance to your Lordship." He carefully withdrew the remains of the charred piece of paper from his bags. He then offered them to his lord on bended knee, as if it was a burnt offering, rather than a burnt letter.

"What is this Lucius?" the Dark Lord said, curiously. "I see nothing but a bit of charred parchment. Explain yourself."

Lucius took a deep breath. "My lord…" he said slowly, "if you would take a closer look at this particular piece." He held up the small scrap of paper that read Albus.

The Dark Lord took the scrap and held it closer to his eyes, turning it over and over. He sniffed it, he tapped it with his wand… "What is the meaning of this, Lucius?"

"My Lord, I do not know if this is the same Albus as your nemesis, but it seems that—" Lucius was cut off.

"You dare speak the name of mine enemy? Do you dare utter that filth in front of me? What are babbling on about Lucius? Have you gone mad in your decrepit state?"

Lucius stumbled, confused. "You… you do not see it, my lord? To me it is as clear as the light of day. That scrap of paper has the word Albus on it."

The Dark Lord's eyes shone red, but then they softened. "Adolphus!" he cried, as a gray-haired man stepped forward from the shadows. "What do you see on this scrap of paper?"

Adolphus took the paper in his hands and turned it over and over, much as his master had done. "Nothing, my lord."

Lucius was alarmed. "But, but, my lord! The other pieces! Do you not see the partial words and letters on them?" There was silence. "Ask someone else! I can't be the only one, I can't!"

"Do not raise your voice to me, Lucius! But very well, let us ask dear Bellatrix." The Dark Lord clapped his hands and a frazzled, square-jawed woman came forward, clutching a pair of spectacles to her heart.

"Yes, my lord?" she asked, turning her head to glare at her brother-in-law.

"Do you see anything on this paper?" the Dark Lord asked, handing it to her with his brow raised in triumph.

Bellatrix was still as she held the piece of paper, and for one brief moment, Lucius was sure she could see the name that was written in such clear script. "I see nothing, my Lord. It is not but a scrap of parchment, heavily burnt. But if your Lordship should desire, I would not tarry to examine the rest of the scraps in my laboratory."

"Thank you, Bellatrix," he replied, though his gaze stayed on her as she retreated with the rest of the parchment. "Where did you say you got this, Lucius?"

Lucius hesitated, knowing full-well that they must have thought he was a loon, but told the story of shooting down the paper with all manner of detail.

…

Evander finished his very detail-oriented letter to Dumbledore by signing his name, then allowing Lily and his mock-parents to do so as well. "If we send this straight away, we should be able to change our departure location to this cell at 7:27 tomorrow morning. Now all we have to do is to follow Dumbledore's instructions and send it to him."

Lily nodded. "So, we need to tap the four corners, like so…"

"Now say your full names," Hermione supplied, sitting beside them on the floor.

"Evander Gwydion Malfoy," Evander said, clearly.

"Lily Ithaca Potter." Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the peculiar middle name, but Lily didn't attempt to explain.

"And your birthdates…" The children told the paper the month, day and year of their birthdays. Evander had been born in the summer, Lily in the spring. "And your favorite sweets."

"What is my favorite sweet?" Evander pondered. "Our parents must have told Dumbledore the correct answer, but I'm not sure what that answer is!"

"Sugar quills," Lily spoke, clearly.

"Um… chocolate frogs?" Evander asked. Quick as a wink, the parchment disappeared in a burst of light. "That was lucky."

"Or maybe it only needed one of us to answer," Lily said, winking.

"Are the two of you going to keep me captive until tomorrow morning?" Malfoy asked, now held securely in place by a number of cords. "I won't runaway, I swear."

Hermione gave him a sour expression. "I'm helping them, and don't forget that I know quite a few good spells," she said, taking up the wand proffered by Evander.

"How nice of you to remind me, though I must remind you that you're out of practice."

"If Willow can use a wand, don't think that I couldn't," Hermione retorted.

"Who in the name of Merlin is Willow?"

"Shows what you know, now doesn't it?"

"Bet it's someone Muggle! How very like you."

"He's a character from muggle fiction, yes."

"And what could he do? Hmm?"

"He could perform advanced human transfiguration after only a few minutes of using a wand for the first time."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Evander and Lily watched in confusion. "Isn't that a movie?" Evander asked.

"From the eighties," Lily said. "They sure are good at arguing."

"And he could turn people to stone with only an acorn!"

"An acorn? What sort of magic is that?"

"Oh, never you mind!"

"Fine!" There was an awkward silence.

"Um, Lily and I are going to the kitchens to get some dinner… Will the two of you be all right down here?" Evander asked, staring at the two infantile adults.

"Yes, we will," Hermione said, twirling the wand in her hand. She smirked.

…

Professor Albus Dumbledore clutched a letter in his hand as he flooed to Draco and Hermione Malfoy's home. He smiled as they came to the door. "They've replied."

"How are they? Are they coming home?" Hermione asked, clutching at her heart.

"They're together. They've asked to change they're location, and they aren't the only ones who will be coming."

"No?" Draco asked, taking the letter from Dumbledore and scanning it. "Merlin's Beard!"

"What is it?" Hermione asked, trying to see over her husband's shoulder.

"It's our counterparts! They're coming too!"

A.N.: Okay, that bit about Willow was a little out-of-place. Honestly, I don't know what made me write it. I liked the Death Eater's Lair. How about you? Until next time!


	18. 7:27 AM

Sold-Chapter 18-7:29 AM

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: To those of you who were lost last chapter, here is a brief explanation of Willow. It is a movie from the 80's about a dwarf named Willow (Warwick Davis, aka Flitwick) who goes on a mission to restore an infant princess to her people. Along the way he receives a wand, runs into brownies, fairies, and big people. One such big person is Madmartegan (Val Kilmer) who offers to take the infant in exchange for freedom from a gigantic cage. Chaos ensues when two stowaway brownies use some love powder on Madmartegan and the evil daughter of the evil queen. Etc.

Lucius just didn't get it. Why was he the only one who could read the mysterious scrap of paper? And now the Dark Lord must think him insane. He might never be trusted again. He went home and settled in for the night with Narcissa. Her health was obviously failing. She seemed to be under the impression that she had hallucinated earlier in the day. He really did hope that Draco would hurry and produce an heir before Narcissa's inevitable demise.

…

Draco sat as if he were a hostage in his own house, tied to a chair in the dungeon as Evander, the Potter girl, and Granger ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Granger had levitated one in front of his mouth so that he could eat without his hands. She had purposefully rammed it at his nose on several occasions, making him increasingly sticky and irritable.

"It is too bad, Malfoy, that you don't own any torture devices. Your father sounded so disappointed," Granger said conversationally as she wiped her mouth daintily with a cloth napkin.

Draco glared. How he hated her! To think, he actually kissed her only the night before. He watched as she patted her lips again with the napkin for good measure. Those accursed lips… It irked him how the upper one curved in delicately while the lower budded out, as if they were not lips at all, but rather like an orchid. Some men spent their entire lives in pursuit of the perfect orchid, going to the deepest jungles and bogs to find it. Yes, that was exactly what Hermione Granger's lips reminded Draco of. Though he would never admit it to himself, he had at last found his orchid, but it seemed to hang higher up and further from his grasp than imaginable. Hermione Granger was not one easily plucked.

"We should get some sleep. If all goes as planned, Dumbledore will retrieve us first thing in the morning," Granger said, and there were nods in agreement. The two children and Granger spaced themselves out on the uncomfortable dungeon floor and fell asleep long before Draco. He was not accustomed to sleeping while sitting up, and the ropes felts as if they were cutting into him. They were far from the sounds of the night, being so deep underground, and the usual howl of wolves didn't reach them.

Draco woke to the sound of scuffling, and opened his eyes to see Granger, sitting up and concentrating. It was hard to tell the time. His watch wasn't facing him. Granger's head lifted and she gave him a scathing look. There was obviously something troubling her, but what?

"Go back to sleep, Malfoy. We have two more hours. I'll wake you up before it's time."

"And why aren't you asleep, Granger?" Draco asked, skeptically. "If this new world is all it's cracked up to be, then there's no reason why you should be looking so concerned. You aren't the one leaving the lap of luxury, after all."

"Believe you me, Malfoy, I am not dreading to say good bye to this filthy place your Lord has created."

"Then why so worried?" Draco asked, though he doubted she would trust in him enough to divulge.

"First you answer a question for me. If you call this world the lap of luxury, then why are you leaving?"

"Simple," Draco said, twisting himself beneath the cords, "there is no room for improvement. And what is the use of being mighty without anyone below you?"

"And your parents? Your friends? Are you willing to leave them to fend for themselves? Your mother is very ill. Are you so heartless that you'd leave her to die of a broken heart?"

"There is another, better version of my mother on this alternate world. I'm upgrading," Draco added, to impress upon her just how heartless he could be. "And that's what's troubling you, isn't it? There are still friends of yours left here. Potter, for instance?"

If looks could kill, hers would have. "Just because you're heartless enough to leave your friends when they need you, doesn't mean that I have to be."

"Wait," Draco said, turning his head, "you are coming, aren't you? You haven't changed your mind?"

"I'm still deciding," she said, simply.

"Maybe you should make a list; that seems Granger enough, doesn't it?" She rolled her eyes. "Well, consider this dear mudblood. There is very little you can do for Potter, or anyone for that matter. You are still a traitor. The moment you step outside, they will recognize you and you'll be dead. Even if you managed to stay hidden, you'd still have to _find_ Potter. He might be in Patagonia for all you know."

"Why so concerned for my well-being? And don't pretend that I'm not the reason you're coming with us. You are _attracted_ to me," Granger said, smoothly.

"I'm going to sleep now. Wake me when it's time," Draco said, equally smoothly. Draco pretended to close his eyes, but watched through near-closed lids as Granger continued to weigh her obligations.

…

Draco was awoken at 7:25 by Granger. Evander and the Potter girl were already up and groomed. "We're going to untie you," Granger informed him. "But don't try anything. I've placed a restraint spell on you. You won't be able to move more than three feet until we get there."

Draco nodded in annoyance. Typical of Granger to think of _everything_. "So, have you made up your mind then?" he whispered, as she unbound his cords.

"I'm going," she replied, simply. She averted her eyes and he tried his best not to smirk. "Some of the things you said… albeit tactless, were good points."

Draco nodded. "This had better work, then."

"Of course it'll work. It's Dumbledore." Granger straightened and took three steps back to keep outside of his allotted space. Draco couldn't help but notice how much leaner she looked after only a few short days of being released from the Death Eaters. Her eyes had regained much of their old warmth, no longer making her look like a dead woman.

"One minute," Evander muttered, and Draco's eyes were torn from the mother to the son. He was so like both of them in so many ways that it was truly uncanny. Draco's hair had always been as straight as a bone, so had his father's. He admitted to himself that curls did in fact compliment the Malfoy facial structure. The boy promised to be quite handsome in the future. "Ten," he counted, "nine…" Draco struggled to keep his eyes open, "five, four…" it was almost time, "two, one." Almost instantly it was as if they had been surrounded by living energy, a thousand lightning bolts encased them. Draco felt himself being compacted, as if in a very tight ball, and then… they had arrived. It took a moment to recognize the old headmaster's office. Draco's knees buckled as he struggled to stand. Across the room, holding hands, was a shorter-haired version of himself, and a longer-haired version of Granger. He acknowledged several squeals as the children were caught in their parents' arms. A few feet down, hugging Lily to him, was none other than the Boy… Harry Potter.

A.N. Surprised that I updated? School has now started and my schedule is erratic. I'm trying to take every chance I get to write.


	19. Arrival

Sold-Chapter 19-Arrival

By Marmalade Fever

Bellatrix Lestrange was puzzled. She was pouring over her copy of "An Alternate Life," which was, to her knowledge, the only copy left after the great book burning of the Crabbes. Why hadn't it worked? She had done exactly as the spell had said. She had triple-read every footnote. So what had gone wrong?

It was terrible to lie before her master. She had done so on few occasions. It would be all right, she told herself. No one would believe her brother-in-law. He was naught but a senile old man.

It was on rare occasions that she would admit to confusion. Why was it that only herself and Lucius could read that scrap of paper? Albus, it said. There could be only one Albus, and that was Albus Dumbledore. The problem was that Albus Dumbledore was dead. He had been for about a decade. But… surely there might be a living Dumbledore in the alternate dimension? If that were true, she was to blame. She wanted Lily Potter and Lily Potter alone.

She had waited for hours in her laboratory for the girl to appear. It should have been instantaneous. Now it had been over a week, and still no child of the Boy.

There must be an answer, there must! But there was no way that she could have fudged the spell. Her failure must have occurred in the other dimension. There could be no other explanation.

And so she set to work analyzing the scraps of paper.

…

There were several people in the room whom Draco was totally unfamiliar with, and, to the looks of it, so was Granger. Standing beside Potter was a nice-looking woman with Lily's chin. The girl's mother, apparently. Weasley was there, a brown-haired woman at his side. Then Draco nearly had a coughing fit. Standing beside Longbottom, heavily pregnant and holding hands with the fool of a man, was his own deceased wife, Antoine Bellover. In the two seconds it took for him to get over his initial shock he was greeted by Albus Dumbledore.

"Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, his eyes gleaming in that old familiar way.

"Professor Dumbledore," Draco replied, temporarily unsure of how to behave in this new dimension.

"I would like to thank you for ensuring the safety of these children," he continued, casting Draco's hesitancy aside for the moment.

Draco simply nodded, keeping his eyes locked with the old man's. He was a bit too trusting. It was disturbing, really.

"And Miss Granger!" Dumbledore cried with deeper enthusiasm, taking the mudblood's hand and placing a small kiss on her knuckles. "My dear… are you all right?"

Granger… his Granger, (not that she was his other than in a master and slave sense,) was looking suddenly drained. "I…" she began, and then the tears began to fall heavily and the old Headmaster cradled her in his arms. There was quite a shuffle as the others in the room rushed to comfort her and Draco was left momentarily forgotten… almost. Draco had not noticed the presence of Professor Snape, and his former professor was quick to approach him.

"It is good to se you again, Mr. Malfoy. It has been too long."

Draco frowned. "I'm right over there," he said, pointing to his short-haired self who was actually hugging Granger.

"Yes, that is Draco Malfoy, but not as I remember him. The marriage left him a changed man. Love makes a difficult adversary." Draco frowned, but it was at that moment that Granger, or rather Mrs. Malfoy, approached him. Her hair was long and bushy as it was in her school days.

"Draco?" she asked, offering her hand to shake.

"Call me Malfoy," he said, not taking her proffered hand.

"Draco," she insisted, though she dropped her hand. "We were wondering if you might like to stay at our house for awhile."

"Wouldn't that get confusing, Granger?" he asked.

"My surname hasn't been Granger in twelve years. I'm just as much a Malfoy as you. As for being confusing… that's just a risk we'll have to take. You can't tell me you actually remembered to bring money?"

Draco frowned. She was right, as usual. He had come without any sort of plan.

"Besides," she continued, "she's already agreed to stay with us."

"And what makes you think that that would make a difference?"

"Let's just say that I've become an expert on Draco Malfoy psychology." As if in answer to his name, Draco's counterpart took this moment to introduce himself.

"Well, if it isn't me," he said. Unlike his wife, he didn't offer his hand.

"So it would seem," Draco replied, frowning. Both stared for a long moment before the counterpart broke into a grin and Draco broke into a lop-sided sneer.

"The long hair does suit us, then? I never had the patience to grow it out."

"Once it gets past the chin, there's not turning back. I haven't had it cut in four years." Both smirks deepened.

"Well, this is a cheery reunion," Hermione Malfoy said, with her own brand of smirk in place. "Draco," she turned to her husband and Draco watched in slight horror, "I'm taking Evander down to the Great Hall." She kissed him on the cheek and was gone, leaving Draco to blink after witnessing such a supernatural exchange. Across the room he caught eyes with Granger and she stared unblinkingly.

"Do you think," he said slowly to his short-haired self, "that Mother and Father would take kindly to a visit?"

"From you… yes. From me… doubtful," was the reply.

"I think I might stay with them for awhile."

"Didn't Hermione invite you to stay with us?" His eyebrows knit.

"You, of all people, should understand that I would much rather not."

"True, but there is our overwhelming curiosity to take into account."

"What do I have to be curious about?" Draco asked, bristling.

The other Draco studied him for a long moment. "Why are you here?" Draco felt as if a cat had caught his tongue. "Exactly."

…

Hermione watched as the two Malfoys broke apart and the one who was, apparently, her counterpart's loving husband came to talk to her again. "Feeling okay?" he asked, placing his hand on her shoulder in a friendly gesture.

"I will be. It's just…"

"You can trust me."

"You don't know what it's like in my world," she said softly.

"No, no I don't. Try me, though." His tone was so much softer than the Malfoy who had bought her in an auction.

"Voldemort's in power," she said simply. The look on his face was pure terror.

"The letter said that there were Death Eaters, but I never dreamed…"

"I haven't seen Harry in a very long time. Nor has anyone else. Ron," her voice cracked, "Ron is dead. Dumbledore is dead…"

"And what happened to you?" he asked, clutching her hand in his.

"Five years of Death Eater custody." She lifted her hand slowly to point to the other Malfoy across the room. "H-he, he bought me at a 'Mudblood Auction.'"

The look on the man's face held so much concern that she was actually beginning to understand how her other self could have ended up with him. He was nothing like Malfoy. "If he hurt you, I swear… I'll…"

"Don't beat yourself up about it," she said, a small smile alighting her lips. "No, he never hurt me, not physically. If he hadn't bought me and fed me… I don't think I could have lasted much longer."

"Good, very good," he said in relief. "I'd like to apologize for his behavior."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day that Draco Malfoy would apologize to me."

"You should have seen the look on Neville's face when I apologized to him."

Hermione couldn't help herself. She hugged Draco Malfoy. Across the room, the other Draco Malfoy's eyes grew round with wonder.

A.N.: Aw, CMG Draco is so much nicer than Sold Draco! I dropped my Friday class, so that will give me at least one day a week when I can work on this. Oh, I have to tell you how wonderful my creative writing class is! My teacher compared herself to Minerva McGonagall! And someone said I was the coolest person in the class!


	20. All Dracos are Created Equal

Sold-Chapter 20-All Dracos are Created Equal

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: I'm trying to make which Draco and Hermione I'm talking about as obvious as I can. I don't want to have to have a key if I can avoid it. (Making one or the other speak in italics or something.) So please, bear with me. If you're really struggling, let me know and I'll try and make it easier. Remember that this is not an easy situation.

"Hermione," Ron said, coming over to talk.

"Ron!" Hermione responded, hugging him. She had missed her funny, red-head friend so much.

"And," he said, breaking away uncomfortably, "this is Eliza, my wife."

Hermione smiled at the other woman. So Ron had married. She wasn't so surprised. What seemed forever ago, Ron had had a crush on her, and vice versa, though nothing had ever come of it. "It's so nice to meet you," she said, gripping Eliza's hand in her own.

"I'd say the same, but… we've, well, maybe not 'we,' but, you know. I've met you…"

Hermione nodded in understanding. "Where did Harry go?" she asked. However much she'd missed Ron, she missed Harry ten times more. In her timeline, Ron was dead. It was much easier to come to closure over him compared to Harry, who had merely been missing. (Granted, everyone on the light side had missed Harry for a very good reason.)

"I think he went to the Great Hall with Lily and Pen."

"Is that his wife?"

"Yep. Penelope. She's muggle," Ron said, shrugging good-naturedly.

"I think I'll go and see him then. Thanks Ron."

"Anytime," he said, smiling broadly and patting her on the back.

Across the room, Bad Malfoy, as Hermione had come to call him, was alone. Good Malfoy had left the room. As she crossed to the door, he began to follow her. They left Dumbledore's office and began walking down the hallway. There was a slight clamor of students going down to eat. "Stop following me," she hissed, not turning to face him.

"I can do what I please, Granger. You are not my mother."

"Thank goodness for that."

"That was quite a hug."

"Ron's dead. I thought I'd never see him again."

"I didn't mean _that_ hug, Granger." She stopped in her tracks and turned, a smirk to rival all smirks in place. Before Draco could do anything she burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, feeling cold and clammy all over.

"You're jealous! Of yourself!" She tried to stifle a snort. She pointed a finger at him and continued laughing. Draco couldn't stand it. Students were filing through the corridors and a few had turned to see the commotion. No way was Hermione Granger going to laugh at him without consequence. "You are so… so…" she gasped between breaths.

"So what" he asked, his nostrils flaring. His skin was an unearthly pale color. "Pathetic?"

She shook her head, clasping her arms around her rib cage to keep her steady. "No, in denial!" Draco's jaw dropped and he raised his hand to strike. Quick as lightning Granger pulled out a wand… his wand… and pointed it under his chin. "I told you to stop following me, Malfoy. And how dare you raise your hand against a woman! _For shame_."

Draco hesitated, dropping his hand.

"What an excellent display!" a familiar voice said, clapping. Both of them moved their heads to face the intruder, or, rather, intruders. There stood both of their counterparts, smiling innocently.

Granger lowered the wand from his chin and backed away, all signs of laughter gone from her thin face.

"What do you want?" Draco said, frowning at the married couple.

"Evander is staying here. We've come to collect the two of you," the other Draco replied.

"I can find my way to the Manor on my own, thank you."

"I have not doubt that you can, but you may not want to go there unannounced. Besides, as we're all heading in the same direction…"

Draco nodded in understanding. There wasn't much use in arguing with himself. All Dracos were created equal, after all. "Fine," he answered, and followed sulkily behind the trio. His counterpart had laid an arm around his wife's shoulders and had a hand resting on Granger's arm. It hurt to think that his counterpart seemed to have everything, while he had so little.

…

Harry Potter lay in a crumpled heap in what might have looked like a mouse hole, had it not been large enough for a human. He had caught a small hare two days ago but had long since finished it off. His once thick hair was thinning from malnutrition. At least he was safe. He had been staying here for three months now and there was no sign that anyone had yet discovered his hideout. Hideouts were tricky things to find. He had quite a preference for holes, living underground where no one would bother him, away from the filthy air above. Over the last fifteen years he had lived in many places. He had stayed in abandoned castles, bungalows, even in enlarged air bubbles under water. He wasn't always alone, though. On rare occasions he had come across hopeless, confused muggles and he had helped protect them in exchange for companionship. Only a month before he had moved to his present hole, Harry had actually run into an old friend, Neville Longbottom. Neville had been in the best physical condition Harry had ever seen him in. He had lost so much weight and become so spry that it was difficult to even recognize his old school chum.

It was hard to say what had happened to his other friends. He knew for a fact that the Dursleys were long gone, killed by Voldemort to prevent any sort of blood bond from causing his demise. Ron Weasley, the news had reached him from Neville, was dead. Hermione had been captured. What was curious was that she had been left alive. Harry had asked Neville about this and his response had made Harry wish to vomit. Most of the muggleborns had been spared to sell at some sort of auction. Had the Dark Lord no decency at all?

According to the dates Neville had given to him, the auction would have taken place only a few days prior. He wondered what the fate of his brainy friend might be. Who had bought her and for what purpose? He shuddered to think. She would have certainly been bought. She was too high up on the food chain of VIP resistance to not be bought.

Harry turned on his side to stretch. This hole wouldn't be safe much longer and he needed to move on. It was difficult to say what the point of living was anymore. But the prophecy had not yet been fulfilled. Both himself and Voldemort were still alive. (Though it was hardly common knowledge that Harry Potter was, indeed, alive.)

According to Neville, those on the dark side had long ago quite using Harry's name. It was something to be feared, apparently. Instead they called him "The Boy." It hardly made sense to Harry, though. He hadn't been a boy for thirty years. But perhaps the last time he had been in the open, he was still young enough to be remembered as such.

On unsteady feet, Harry rose and left his small hole. Perhaps to find food, perhaps to find another hiding place. But most of all, he craved information. He covered himself with his trusty invisibility cloak and began trekking through the woods, going south, closer and closer to Voldemort's Lair.


	21. Random Happenings

Sold-Chapter 21-Random Happenings

By Marmalade Fever

A floo connection had been set up in Professor McGonagall's classroom. "I wish we could have some more time with Evander," Hermione Malfoy said, frowning.

"It's a few more months 'til Christmas. We'll see him then," Good Malfoy replied, nodding.

"But if he's anything like me, he'll probably be off saving the world," Hermione Malfoy replied.

Hermione frowned at her counterpart. Yes, it had been important for them to stay at school at times. Now, to her, it felt as if it had been in vain, but to her counterpart it still was important. She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. There was no use in torturing herself about the past. "I forgot," she said out-loud, "I wanted to say good-bye to Harry."

Her counterpart turned to her. "Oh, not to worry. The Potters are coming over for dinner tonight." Both Malfoys rolled their eyes.

"Don't tell me that I have to attend," Bad Malfoy asked, gritting his teeth.

"You're under no obligation, Draco," Hermione M. replied, "though we really would like to have you over."

"And if I can put up with Potter, you can," Good Malfoy added, sniggering. His wife punched his arm and he rubbed it as if it smarted. "What was that for?"

"Setting a bad example." Hermione smiled at the playful interaction between the couple, but felt suddenly uncomfortable as she felt a familiar set of eyes watching her.

"If I say something snide, are you going to hit me, then, Granger?" he hissed into her ear as they continued to follow their counterparts down the hall.

"I think you're forgetting who has the wand here," she said, "and that I'm not interested in you're well-being."

"Be careful, Granger, or I might just come for dinner, after all."

"It's a free world, Malfoy. And by the way, don't pretend that I don't know you're interested in watching their interaction. You told me yourself that the situation intrigued you."

He looked thoughtful for a moment as they trailed behind the couple ahead of them. "Have I told you how good you look in those orange robes?" She remained resolutely silent. "I see you haven't forgotten what you did to earn them."

"My point exactly," she said, speeding up to walk beside herself.

…

Draco stepped lightly out of the fireplace in the kitchen. It looked the same, except that it was sunnier and cleaner. His counterpart was just helping Granger to her feet. It was still fairly early, maybe 8:30.

"Draco," the Granger that was now a Malfoy said, "are you _sure_ you wouldn't rather stay here?" There was something about the way she said his name. It wasn't scornful, it was actually rather endearing. Her long curly hair was splayed over her shoulders and her eyes were bright with flecks of cinnamon.

"Why do you care so much?" he asked, crossing his arms indignantly.

"Because I know you and I know your scum of parents, that's why," she said, easily.

Draco opened his mouth to protest, but his counterpart beat him to it. "She's right, you know."

"Don't forget that they're my in-laws. Between Lucius threatening to kill me if I didn't marry and Narcissa being her lovely self, I've learned to avoid them whenever necessary."

"Just because they hate you doesn't mean they won't welcome back the prodigal son," Draco said darkly.

Granger stepped forward. "His mother is sick," she said, rather suddenly. "In our world."

"How do you know?" Draco asked, staring. Her eyes went wide and her mouth clammed shut. "I never told you."

"Come on, let's leave them alone," the other woman said, leading the other Draco out of the kitchen.

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?" he asked, forcefully.

The frightened look on her face changed to triumph. "You want to know, do you?"

Draco stared at her, furiously.

"Simple." With that she turned from human to bird and back again so fast he could barely blink in time to catch it. "Like I said last night, don't go underestimating me just because I haven't handled a wand in a while. Because maybe, just maybe, I don't need one!"

"Granger," he said, his voice gravel, "you did something illegal." He grabbed her hand and yanked her to him, planting his lips so firmly on hers that he surprised himself. She shoved him away and put the wand to his Adam's apple.

"Petrificus totallus!" she cried, before storming out of the room, huffing and puffing.

…

Draco was left lying there for far longer than he could have imagined. When his counterpart finally came in and found him, he had laughed his head off before he finally ended the spell.

…

Harry knew these woods. He had been there before, long ago. He wasn't incredibly far from Voldemort's Lair, and he had to repeat to himself the old saying about keeping your enemies close. Suddenly he heard a noise and he froze, slowing his breathing. He turned slowly and finally let out a puff of air. It was just a niffler. Nothing to be worried about. It sniffed the air once and went trotting in the opposite direction. Harry followed it, and paused when he realized just which wood this was. He stepped cautiously around a blackberry vine and into a clearing. There it was: a gnarled old tree. He smiled in appreciation as he kicked at part of it, triggering a hidden staircase to open. Yes, he knew exactly where he was. He climbed down into the good-sized hole and allowed himself to rest in a pile of leaves. He pulled his cloak off and set it aside for the moment. The niffler had followed him down.

"Hello boy," Harry croaked softly, as the niffler nuzzled at his hand. He padded away to a corner of the room and returned with a sparkling chain of silver in its mouth, dropping it into Harry's outstretched hand. Harry adjusted his glasses and drew the chain to his eyes. It was a locket. "Huh," he said, turning it over in his hand. "Where did you get this?" he asked the niffler, absentmindedly. Delicately, he undid the clasp and looked inside and his heart caught in his throat. There was a very small wizarding picture inside… A young girl with long black hair… and himself? The other half of the locket had an inscription and Harry's heart felt weak. "To Lily, love Daddy." What did it mean?

A.N.: I honestly had no idea what to write. No idea at all. Hence the chapter title. Thank you for all the lovely reviews. Oh, and hi GG!


	22. What a Lovely Dinner Party

Sold-Chapter 22- What a Lovely Dinner Party!

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: Stole the chapter title from one of my other fanfics. Hee hee.

Hermione, her counterpart, and "Good" Malfoy were all in the kitchen, watching house-elves at work. "Bad" Malfoy was in a spare bedroom, napping.

"I told him I'd take him to the Manor in the morning," Malfoy said, searching through drawers for a tablecloth.

"Stubborn, aren't you?" Hermione M. commented, opening a drawer and pulling out a very large flowered tablecloth. He held his hand over his heart and pretended to look hurt, but then he winked.

"So who all are coming?" Hermione asked, following the couple into the dining room.

"Let's see," he counterpart said, using her wand to levitate the cloth. "The Potters, the Longbottoms, the Weasleys—Ron and Eliza—and the Thomases." She levitated a vase of flowers onto the table, as well as plates and cutlery.

"So when are you going to ask?" Malfoy said.

"Hmm?" Hermione asked, looking to him. "Ask what?"

"We know you've been dying to find out how we ended up together."

Hermione bit her lip. He was right on the nose about that one. "Well, Evander told me a bit, but there were blanks. You, I mean, the other Malfoy, told me about the Marriage Contract."

The other Hermione nodded and went to a cupboard to pull out a scrapbook. "After school got out we didn't see each other. The day after Draco's twenty-fifth birthday, he sent me an owl." She opened the scrapbook to the first page.

Dear Miss Granger,

I would be most appreciative if you would meet me at seven o'clock tonight at Basil Garden. Please do not be alarmed. I have a very important matter to discuss with you. Thank you very much. I look forward to seeing you again.

Sincerely,

Draco Malfoy

"You sound so… pitiful," Hermione said, looking to Malfoy.

"That's what I thought, too. So I met him for dinner. He looked so sad and so nervous, I had to listen. He showed me the contract and told me what his father had said, and it suddenly dawned on me that he had just proposed. It was the saddest thing you've ever heard." Malfoy rolled his eyes a little. "And so I decided to give him a chance. I went to his birthday party at the manor."

"Which was when my father decided to threaten her life," Malfoy said, chiming in. "He recommended that I do anything in my power to keep you… Hermione from getting away."

"So he proposed to me in a crowded restaurant in front of Witch Weekly and the Minister of Magic." She wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "They started chanting for me to kiss him. Didn't talk to him for a few days."

"I made up for it on our two-week anniversary." Malfoy winked.

"Everything went smoothly for awhile, until Christmas," she said, with a frown.

"What happened?" Hermione asked. The couple shared a look.

"Mid-snog," Hermione cringed, "I was summoned to my father's office. Antoine Bellover—don't know if you'd know her—had been recovered. She'd been frozen in a tundra. Father made me break off the engagement in pursuit of her instead.

"So I courted Bellover for a few months." He grimaced. "As Hermione so accurately put it, I was in denial. I wouldn't admit I had fallen in love. I ended up waiting until the wedding day to apparate away and beg you… her… to elope with me."

"How did your parents take it?" Hermione asked, absorbed with the story.

The couple looked at each other as if communicating silently. "His father," Hermione M. replied, "gave us permission. We were suspicious for the longest time before he finally explained that he didn't have a choice because of the media.

"Oh, look at the time. Our guests should be arriving," she ended. Sure enough, Kobby led several couples into the room. Harry and Penelope arrived first, along with Ron and Eliza. Neville and a strange woman came next. Last, and not totally expected from Hermione, were Ginny and Dean Thomas.

"So where's the newest Malfoy?" Harry asked, when they were all seated.

"Upstairs, moping," Hermione M. said, sipping her water.

"Moping?" Ginny asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I found him in the kitchen, paralyzed, earlier," "Good" Malfoy said, looking pointedly at Hermione.

Everyone turned to look at her. "Believe me, he had it coming," she assured them.

"What did he do?" the strange woman with Neville asked.

"I'd rather not say," Hermione replied, perhaps a little too shortly.

"So Hermione, er, Hermione _G_., I guess… wait, you aren't married, are you?" Ron asked.

"Er, no," she replied.

"Good. I mean, less confusion that way. Anyway, what's this other dimension like, for those of us left out of the loop?"

Hermione hesitated. How could she tell all of these innocent people about their despair? "Well, Ron, for starters, you're dead." He paled, apparently not expecting _that_ answer. "Voldemort's in power. Harry's missing. And Malfoy bought me at a 'Mudblood Auction'." The silence was overwhelming.

"Speaking of whom," the better of the Malfoys said, looking to the door. "Nice of you to show up."

"My room service bell wasn't working," the long-haired Malfoy replied, seating himself beside his counterpart. He made a fuss with placing his napkin on his lap. "So," he said, at last, looking at the guests, "you married Longbottom." The strange woman beside Neville looked up, a glimmer of a smirk in place.

"Yes, yes I did. Mind if I ask how you know who I am?" she asked, folding her arms over her enlarged belly.

He grimaced, as if rethinking whether or not he should have brought it up. He was in a room full of people he hated, after all. "In my timeline, Antoine, we were married."

Neville stood so quickly no one would have thought it possible. "I'LL KILL HIM!"

"Oh, sit down, Longbottom. It's not like I'm interested."

"Yes, Sweetie, there's nothing to worry about. You remember how much I annoyed Draco, don't you?" Antoine said, patting his arm.

"Good" Malfoy nodded in agreement. "Trust me," he said, "Antoine's all yours. I've never been good enough at herbology to even interest her."

"Herbology?" "Bad" Malfoy repeated. "You're still stuck on that, are you?"

"It's my passion, and Neville's as well. We've co-written… fifteen books on it now," Antoine said. Hermione was beginning to remember her conversation about Antoine a few days ago, though she could only remember making fun of her name.

"Longbottom's written books?" he asked flatly.

"And so have I," "Good" Malfoy stated, easily.

"You're an author?" Hermione spoke up, at last, her heart beating faster for a reason she couldn't guess. If there was anything she truly cared about, it was books…

A.N.: Yeah, that ended weirdly. Thanks for reading, everyone!


	23. The Godparents

Sold-Chapter 23-Godparents

By Marmalade Fever

The dishes were cleared magically and dessert was on its way. Draco watched, lazily, as his counterpart stood. "I'd like to make an announcement," he said, and Draco groaned, figuring it had to do with him. "In the not-too-distant future Hermione, either one, will no longer be the brightest witch to have ever graced the halls of Hogwarts." Draco looked around, confused. Granger frowned, obviously a little disturbed at the idea. The others had raised eyebrows.

"Impossible," Weasley said, laughing.

"Yeah, that'll be the day," Potter added, also chuckling.

The long-haired Granger/Malfoy—H. Malfoy, he decided—beamed. "We told Evander this morning, but we'd like you all to be the second to know…" Draco moved in closer unconsciously, "we're going to have a baby!" Draco dropped his water-goblet and it rolled across the floor. Granger, a few feet away, looked almost ready to faint. Everyone else, on the other hand, looked jubilant.

"Malfoy, you old dog, congratulations!" Weasley said, getting up to clap a hand on the short-haired Draco's back.

"A girl then?" asked Potter's wife.

"Yes!" H. Malfoy said, smiling.

"Oh! She'll be in the same year as little Geldric, here!" Antoine cried, patting her own stomach happily.

"So what you're saying," Draco said, at last, as all the clamor began to die down, "is that she'll be smarter than Granger because of our blood?"

"No," his opposite corrected, "because of _both_ our blood. This baby has a powerful combination of parents, and don't you forget it," he said, so sternly that it was hard to believe he was talking to himself.

His wife straightened. "Also," she said, "I know we've just met, in a sense, but we'd like the two of you to be her Godparents. That is, if you'll be staying." Draco's jaw fell open and he turned to take a look at Granger.

"On my part," the brunette replied, "I'd be happy to." She turned scathing eyes on Draco. "Well?" she asked, after he hadn't replied.

"I wouldn't make a good Godfather, so you all must be batty to even consider it," he said simply.

His counterpart smirked in a sympathetic way. "Well, I don't know about that. But if you'd rather we asked Potter and Weasley, here…"

"Point well taken. If, and remember that 'if,' _if_ I'm still here, then I will." He crossed his arms resolutely.

"Good," the corresponding Draco said, clapping a hand on his arm. "Now, any name suggestions?"

"Personally," the girl Weasel said, speaking up, "I'm a big fan of Ginevra."

"I wonder why," Draco said, under his breath.

"Ginevra Malfoy? Well, I guess it's not bad," H. Malfoy said, albeit hesitantly. Draco half-laughed, half-coughed into his hand.

"Millicent?" Antoine suggested, and was greeted by a resounding "no."

"To much alliteration, too much like Bulstrode," short-haired Draco said.

"And too close to Millificent," Granger said, though not explaining. Her counterpart nodded her agreement.

"I know you're opposed to alliteration, but how about Muriel?" Weasley asked.

"Like great-aunt Muriel?" Girl Weasel asked, laughing into her napkin.

"We'll put it on the list, Ron," H. Malfoy said, though she didn't touch her quill.

Draco sat in silence as the discussion went on. It was unbelievable. His counterpart was going to have another child! His mother would be sincerely disappointed to hear this… His mother. His poor, dying mother, whom he'd left in his own reality, probably to die grandchild-less. He had to remind himself that there was a whole new, healthier version of the same woman not but twenty minutes away, walking.

"Any suggestions from you, Draco?" He looked up. H. Malfoy was addressing him, rather than her husband.

"Narcissa," he said, hoping for it to sound more like a command than a suggestion.

"Actually," his other self replied, "we've already decided on that as a middle name."

"Good," he said, though his features said the opposite.

"And you, Hermione?" the other Draco asked.

"I'm thinking," Granger said.

"Thinking? Of course, what else do you ever do?" Draco mumbled.

"I'm trying to think of rare names," she said. "How about… Ellette? It means Little Elf."

"That's actually really good," her counterpart said. "Ellette Narcissa Malfoy…"

"Ellette Malfoy," her husband repeated to himself.

"Or another one might be Leatrix, which, I think, means bringer of joy."

"Oh!" Girl Weasel squealed, "and you could call her Trixie for short!"

"Or," Draco interrupted, "you could name her Bellatrix and do the same." Potter visibly flushed.

"Or," Granger said, loudly, "if you'd rather have a name that actually means that she's smart… how about Telly? It's easy to say and it means both wise and best."

"That's a good one, too," her counterpart said, looking as if her brain was buzzing. "We'll get back to you on it." She smiled.

…

Harry turned the locket over and over in his hands. This was impossible… Someone must have planted it there for him to find. He rubbed his eyes. Something was bothering him. He had one of those rare niggling sensations that told him that he needed to get information. He had a bad feeling about this auction that Neville had told him about. Maybe he could find a manifest or something that said who had been bought by whom? He knew exactly where he might find one, and not very far from there either. Malfoy. Malfoy would surely have gone to the auction. Who knew? Maybe he could free whomever it was that the git had bought. And maybe, just maybe, it would be Hermione. He had a strange sort of hunch that it was her. He would have to be careful. Malfoy lived next door to his parents, and he would have to go around the Dark Lord's Lair to get there. After a meal of blackberries, he left, clutching his invisibility cloak closer to him.

A.N. Don't bother telling me it was too short.


	24. If You Give an Elf an Outfit

Sold-Chapter 24-If You Give an Elf an Outfit

By Marmalade Fever

Two things were made apparent when Harry Potter discovered two immaculately dressed house-elves on Draco Malfoy's front stoop: 1) that something was definitely awry; and 2) that his suspicions were correct. Malfoy _must_ have bought Hermione. Harry made very sure that there was no one watching before he took off his cloak, frightening the two. "Who did this to you?" he asked.

One of the elves gulped down a sob. "The boy, sir." For a moment, Harry thought they meant _him_. There was something familiar about this elf…

"Dobby?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"No, sir," the elf squeaked. "Dobby is Kobby's brother, sir."

Harry blinked at the sudden discovery. "Who is the boy?" he asked.

"Young Master Malfoy," Kobby supplied.

"Evander," the other elf hiccupped.

Harry had to pause to digest this information. "Is he… Draco Malfoy's son?"

"We think so, sir." They think so? What did that mean, exactly?

"And who's his mother?" Harry asked, rather interested to see which witch would actually stoop so low as to have a baby with the git of the century.

The two elves exchanged a look. "We believe," said Kobby, "he is the son of the frizzy-haired Mudblood." Harry stood, stalk still, fighting back a sudden dowse of nausea and faintness.

"Hermione Granger?" he barely whispered. The elves nodded. Harry felt dizzy. He'd seen hide nor hair of Hermione for fifteen years. Who knew? Maybe something had gone on between the two of them that he didn't know about. He did know that she had been captured, but that didn't mean that she couldn't have had a child before then. But why? What on Earth could have compelled her, or him, for that matter? Hermione would never… go to the dark side, would she? No, no, no. Certainly not.

The chain around his neck shifted and the locket reentered his thoughts. There were now _two_ mysterious children. What did it all mean? His throat was tight as he asked the elves his next question. "Have you ever seen this girl?" he asked, opening the locket to show them the picture.

Kobby nodded his head vigorously. "She is helping the boy to free us, sir. She is the daughter of The Boy, sir."

"She is?" Harry asked, throat hoarse.

"According to her, sir," the elves replied.

"Please," Harry said, bending down so that he was eye-level with the elves, "tell me everything you know about these two children and Hermione Granger. But first, is your former master at home?" he asked.

"We is not seeing him since we is clothed, sir," said Kobby. "That was Thursday, sir." This meant very little to Harry. He could barely keep track of the day of the week anymore.

"And today is?" he asked, feeling foolish for doing so.

"Today is Saturday, sir."

"Has anyone left the house since you were put out?"

"No, sir." Kobby paused. "You is looking familiar, sir." Harry glanced down to see if his concealment charms were still working, but his skin was still olive-toned.

"Oh?" he asked.

"You is looking like a friend of the Master's, sir."

"Right," said Harry. "Now, please, what can you tell me about these children? How old are they?"

Kobby picked at a spot on his chin. "Young Master Evander is either ten or eleven, sir. Miss Lily is being maybe two years older. They is not being here for long, sir."

"How long have they been here?" Harry asked, his confusion only mounting.

"Master Evander is arriving a week and a half ago, sir, and Miss Lily is only coming on Wednesday." Well didn't that beat all? Malfoy and, supposedly, Hermione's son had only been introduced to the elves a week and a half ago? "Master is being very surprised to learn he had a son, sir," the elf chipped in.

"He was, was he?" Harry asked.

"Master is buying Miss Granger in order to figure out why he is having a son with her."

Harry's earlier fears were beginning to be put to rest. "So, they were never… a couple?" he asked, hoping the elves would be able to ease his pounding heart.

"Not that we is knowing, sir," the female elf replied. "Missy Granger is biting our poor master on the hand. He is not liking her very much. He is finding her offensive." Harry had to stifle a snort.

"How has she been treated?" he asked, sitting down on the porch.

"Master had a healer treat her, sir. Then we is bathing her and trimming her hair, sir. We is feeding her well enough. Master is being more pleased with her once she helped him solve the riddle, sir," Kobby said.

"They… solved the riddle?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Master Evander is telling Kobby that he is from an alternate dimension, sir," said Kobby. Harry blinked.

"A what?" he asked.

"He is saying he is from a dimension where the Boy is winning the war, sir. He is saying that Master and Miss Granger is married there, sir." Harry felt a migraine setting in. Things were never straight-forward, now were they? "Master Evander and Miss Lily is receiving a letter from Dumbledore, sir. He is telling them how to get back, sir. We is thinking they might be home again, sir." Harry nodding, making up his mind that it was worth the risk to enter the house, if only to see if anyone was there. He rose and tried the door knob, eventually blasting it open with his wand.

…

Draco Malfoy strode towards Malfoy Manor, his counterpart at his side, grimacing. "I don't know why you want to see them so badly," shorthaired Draco said, groaning.

"They're our parents," Draco replied, getting very tired of his double very quickly.

"And they're horrid."

"Like Granger told you, back home Mother is ill."

"And you think that seeing her in good health will ease your guilt for abandoning her in your own world?" Draco glared at his counterpart, and continued walking with quick strides. "Or maybe you want to ask them a question."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Maybe, you want to know their opinion concerning the topic of daughters-in-law and grandchildren?"

"Shut up, will you?"

A.N.: I'm having a much easier time writing about Harry right now. I have a rough idea of what's going to happen in the story as a whole, but if anyone has any suggestions, let me know.


	25. Conspiracy in the Air

Sold-Chapter 25-Conspiracy in the Air

By Marmalade Fever

A.N. I finally have a plot idea! Yay!

Harry's search through the house proved fruitless. There was no evidence that Hermione or the two children had been there. Many of Malfoy's possessions were left lying out (not that that was surprising, considering it was his house). In the kitchen he found some bread crumbs, an open jar of peanut butter, and a knife covered in jelly, which didn't exactly scream Malfoy.

"Is sir needing any help?" Kobby asked. He'd been following him around.

"Is there anywhere I might have missed? People generally don't just disappear." (Granted, he had.)

Kobby looked thoughtful and, for a moment, Harry was sure he was going to hurt himself for what he was about to say. "Follow Kobby, sir," the elf said, banging his head with his fist.

Harry followed the elf down a hall, a flight of stairs, and toward a door. "This is where we is keeping the Mudblood, sir," Kobby announced.

"A dungeon…" Harry said, "I should have known." Gingerly, he pushed the door open and took a look around. There was a chair, the remains of some rope, some peanut butter and jelly crumbs, and a few blankets and pillows, all in a front of a large cell. "Curiouser and curiouser." He leaned down and took a look at the pillows. His heart stopped. One of the pillows had a very long, shiny, black hair on it. Harry's fingers were shaky as he performed the paternity test. The hair belonged to his daughter, all right. Her mother seemed to be muggle, a fact that greatly confused him because muggles had become almost entirely extinct. Harry wrapped the hair into a loop and placed it inside the locket.

"Look, sir," Kobby said, "there are hairs from the others as well, sir." The elf laid three more hairs in his hand. One was long, blond, and straight, one was short, brown, and curly, and the last was dark blond, short, and curly. Harry nimbly performed a second paternity test. Exactly as he'd feared, the hair belonged to the child of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.

…

"Father?" Draco's counterpart said, knocking on the door to the old man's office.

"Enter," was the flat reply.

Carefully, the married Draco opened the door. "Father, there's someone here who wants to talk to you."

Lucius Malfoy swung around in his chair. "Oh? And who might that be?" he asked.

Short-haired Draco took a step in and long-haired Draco stepped into view. "Hello, Father," he said, smirking. The old man stood, wand in hand.

"What sort of trickery is this?" he asked.

Short-haired Draco stepped out of the room, clearly unwilling to participate in the explanation. Draco pulled a chair forward and sat down, leisurely. "Relax, Father."

Lucius did no such thing. "Who are you?" he growled.

"Haven't you figured it out yet? I'm Draco."

"Explain yourself," he grunted.

"Very well," and he told him about the world ruled by the Dark Lord.

…

Hermione sat quietly in a guest-bedroom. Marmalade, a cat that looked almost exactly like old Crookshanks, had come to a rest on her lap, purring good-naturedly. It was peaceful here. She was finally able to sleep in an actual bed, after all of these years, without fear. So why did she have this sense of foreboding?

…

"Very well," Lucius replied, calmly. "I'll help you."

"It's excellent to hear that," Draco said, smiling.

"But what, pray tell, do you plan to do about Miss Granger? I doubt she would be willing to impersonate herself." Lucius' long hair was swept into a pony tail with a long black ribbon to hold it in place.

"Father, I'm afraid this goody-goody dimension has made you lose your touch. Just leave it to me." Draco smiled, fingering his own blond tresses.

"I must admit, Draco, I had my worries about you, or should I say, the other you. Marrying that filth… but here you are, strong, confident, treacherous. Your parents must be so proud."

Draco's smile quavered. The question of whether or not his parents were proud of him was a difficult one for him to answer. This version of his father seemed to suffice with his cunning and Malfoy-like tendencies. His own parents only seemed to care about one thing: grandchildren. Well, if all went well, both sets of parents would be proud, to a degree. This Lucius and Narcissa would have a Machiavellian villain for a son and his own Lucius and Narcissa would get a nice little half-breed granddaughter. It all worked out so well. "Proud? Oh yes, I'm sure they will be."

…

Harry began to examine the insides of the cell. There certainly wasn't much to find. There was an empty bowl and a spoon, a water goblet, and a grubby old pair of overalls. It was what he found in the pocket of the overalls that was interesting. It was a map with various mathematical figures on it. There was a circle, two points on it, and a dot in the center. Then there were distances labeled. One point was at Malfoy Manor, the dot in the center seemed to be right at Voldemort's Lair, and the other dot… was in the woods where he'd found the locket. Harry threw the paper down in aggravation. There was a mystery going on and he felt like he'd been dropped into this elaborate plot without reading the earlier chapters, as if he were up a river without a paddle. Just then he turned around and saw a very bright light, as if a ball of pure energy had just exploded in the dungeon.

…

Hermione Malfoy smiled as her husband came into the kitchen. "Back so soon?" she asked. He shrugged. "Where's the other Draco?"

"Don't worry about him, Love," he responded. He smirked.

"Did you just get a haircut?" Hermione put down her shopping list and stepped toward him.

"Depends… do you like it?" He had a twinkle in his eye.

Hermione giggled. "I like your hair at any length, you know that." Draco leaned forward and kissed her. Hermione smiled as he pulled away, but then she frowned a little. "You call that a kiss?"

Draco smirked. "No, I call it a farewell. Good-bye, Mrs. Malfoy." Hermione screamed as Lucius Malfoy stepped into the room and stunned her.

A.N.: Whoo! I like it so much when I have a direction in mind. Don't feel bad if you're confused. I meant for you to be. Thank you to all those who reviewed "Blind Date." Also, I shan't be updating on November 11th.


	26. Swap

Sold-Chapter 26-Swap

By Marmalade Fever

Harry threw his invisibility cloak over his shoulders. Two people had just appeared in the area in front of the cell. Kobby stood a few feet away, knees wobbling. As Harry's eyes adjusted back to darkness he felt his throat constrict. It was Hermione and Malfoy. They both were on the ground and groggily sat up.

"How--?" Malfoy began, looking around. "What are we doing down here?"

"I…" Hermione started. Malfoy stood and offered her a hand. Before she could take it, Harry threw aside his cloak and aimed his wand at the blond wizard.

"Stay away from her," he barked.

Both Hermione and Malfoy stared at him. Harry was still using his concealment charm, sot that he appeared to them as a stranger. "Who…" Malfoy began.

"Step away, Malfoy," Harry barked.

Malfoy did as he was told. "Who are you?" he asked. "And how did you get down here?"

"Never mind that." Harry turned away from Malfoy and toward Hermione. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"For the most part," she said, one eyebrow raised. "Who are you?" she asked.

Harry hesitated before removing the concealment charm.

"Potter, what are you doing down here? And why, in Merlin's name, are you pointing that wand at me?" Malfoy asked, sincerely, perhaps even friendly.

Harry frowned. "As if you don't know."

"Really, Harry. Draco hasn't done anything," Hermione said, looking annoyed.

"Draco?" Harry asked, pointedly.

"Yes, Harry," Hermione replied, grumpily, "I'm not very well going to call my husband by his surname, now am I?"

Harry blinked. "Your what?"

"Oh no…" Malfoy said, slapping his forehead. "Hermione, do you know where we are?"

"You're right. He sent us to the other dimension!" She put her hand to her stomach. "I'm going to be ill!" she cried, flinging open the dungeon door and running upstairs.

Harry stared after her, aghast. "What's wrong with her?" he asked, trying to comprehend the situation.

"She's pregnant," Malfoy replied, rubbing his head.

"She's… you're… Oh merlin…" Harry sat down. "Other dimension?" he asked, weakly.

"It's a long story, mate," Malfoy said. "But, hey. You're alive. That's good."

…

Evander loved Saturdays, usually. He woke late this morning in his bed in the Ravenclaw dorms. His roommates had already left for breakfast. He got up, sleepily, and dressed in his school robes. He remembered, fuzzily, that there was a Gryffindor/Slytherin match today. He'd go, though he wouldn't cheer for any particular side… that is, not unless Lily was playing. In that case, he would definitely be rooting for Gryffindor.

Evander walked down to breakfast, noticing more heads turning to look at him than usual. He hadn't gone to classes yesterday, instead spending the day in the library, and most of the students hadn't seen him since his return.

"Oy, Malfoy!" It was Abel Crabbe, a fourth year Slytherin.

"Yeah?" Evander asked, stopping to look at the very large and beefy boy.

"My dad said to say hello to your dad." Crabbe blinked stupidly.

"Will do. Thanks." Evander walked away, sighing. Constantly either the children of Gryffindors or Slytherins would go up to him and make some sort of comment about how their parents knew one another. It was dead annoying. A few flights further down Evander was stopped by Professor Snape.

"Yes, sir?" Evander asked. He'd always been a bit uncomfortable around the man who'd delivered him into the world, and vice versa.

"Come by my office later, Mr. Malfoy. You have two weeks worth of Potions to make up."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Evander replied, standing up straight, hands behind his back.

"And don't think that just because your father was in my house that I would ever take it easy on you, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said, eying him.

"Of course not, sir," Evander replied, nodding. It seemed strange that Snape would feel a need to say this. During Evander's potions lessons with the Hufflepuffs, Snape always seemed to favor him above the other students. He was never quite sure if it was because he was the son of the Slytherin Prince, or because he'd inherited so much Potions knowledge from his mother.

"I wonder, Mr. Malfoy, will you be attending the Quidditch match tonight?" Snape asked. Evander was starting to wonder if he'd ever get down to breakfast.

"I think so, sir," he said, smiling.

"And which team will you be supporting?"

Evander felt like grimacing. "That would depend, sir."

"Yes?"

"On who will be playing," he said, hoping the professor wouldn't press the matter any further.

"I see. Good day, Mr. Malfoy. Do not forget to come see me." The professor walked away.

…

Hermione dressed in a robe that her counterpart had lent to her. The house seemed strangely quiet as she descended a flight of stairs and arrived in the living room. "Hermione?" she called, looking around. "Draco? Either one," she added as an afterthought. She walked into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. "Where is everyone?" she asked. The feeling of dread was settling into her stomach again.

"Good morning." It was Malfoy, the short-haired one.

"Oh, hello," she said, relaxing a little. Then she felt herself tense. "Your hair," she said, slowly.

"Like it? I just got it cut." He sat down across from her.

"Didn't cut off much, did you?" she said, frowning.

"Just a trim," he said, grabbing an apple and munching on it. He was smirking at her.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, staring at him warily.

"Never better," he said.

"Where's your counterpart?" she asked, her eyebrow raised.

"Oh, he left for the other dimension." He shrugged.

"And your wife?" Hermione asked, feeling increasingly suspicious.

"What wife?" he asked, smirking. "Oh, you mean your counterpart… Why, she's in the other dimension as well." Hermione became entirely aware of the fact that she was unarmed.

"What are you doing, Malfoy?" she asked, almost in a growl.

"Why Miss Granger, I thought you could have figured that out on your own." He smiled.

"You filthy, vile, piece of scum!" Hermione spat, blood boiling in rage.

"Settle down, Miss Granger. Look at it this way. You get to live in the lap of luxury from now on… as my queen."

"You evil little cockroach!" Hermione swore. "How do you expect me to cooperate?"

"We Death-Eaters have our ways," he said, simply. "Now, come, give your husband a kiss, darling." He waggled his eyebrows.

"What about the baby, you pig!" she cried.

"Ever heard of a miscarriage before? It's as easy as that. Unless you'd like to have a baby with me? That could also be arranged."

Hermione screamed in frustration. "And Evander? Did you think of him at all?"

"We don't have to worry about him until Christmas. Hogwarts does keep a child from his family for a dreadfully long time." Malfoy munched at his apple.

At long last Hermione actually burst into tears. "I hate you," she muttered. "I really, truly hate you…"

Malfoy frowned. "Is that supposed to surprise me?" he asked.

"Yes, Malfoy, it is! What is it with you men? Don't you ever stop to think that you really should continue on as the nice guy? They guy who actually went to rescue Lily? The guy who started feel something other than greed?"

"What are you trying to say, Granger?" he asked, looking apprehensive.

"I was starting to like you, you idiot!"

A.N.: No update next week. Sorry.


	27. O the Confusion

Sold-Chapter 27-O the Confusion

By Marmalade Fever

After playing gobstones with his friends Ben and Ryan, Evander sullenly made his way to the dungeons to talk to Professor Snape. The now graying professor beckoned him to enter his office and watched carefully as he sat down. "So," Evander began, "what have we been doing in Potions, sir?"

Snape observed him, warily, through his bifocals. "In your book you'll find four potions on pages 97-105. You'll need to complete these during your own time. If you require assistance, I suggest you ask one of your classmates. I'll need you to bring me a phial of each." Evander nodded and, thinking he was excused, stood. "Just one moment, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes, sir?" Evander waited, hands folded behind his back.

"This may not be any of my business, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm wondering, what happened in the other dimension, exactly?"

Evander sighed. Everyone wanted to know. He might as well make a speech at dinner and be done with it. "Well," he began, "I don't know what you know, but in the other dimension You-Know-Who is still alive and in power." Snape nodded, though Evander thought he saw a flicker of a grimace pass through his features. "My 'father' found me and took me to his house, though he kept me stunned for the first week. He revived me after he found my 'mother.' We managed to figure out what happened and where to find Lily. Then we received Professor Dumbledore's letter… and here I am."

Snape nodded. "Very well, Mr. Malfoy. You are excused."

"Thank you, sir."

…

Harry sat at the kitchen table staring between Hermione and Malfoy. She had made some tea. "So, " he said, slowly calming down, "so what you're saying is… is that you're from another dimension."

"The other Draco sent us here," Hermione said, nodding.

"But in your dimension…" Harry began, trailing off.

"You won the war," Malfoy supplied.

"So the boy who set the elves free…"

"Is our son, Evander," Hermione answered.

Harry nodded, slowly. "And… who is this?" he asked, opening the locket.

"That's your counterpart and his daughter, Lily," Malfoy informed him.

"How old is she, now?" Harry questioned.

"She's thirteen, a third year," Hermione said.

"And you two got together how?" Harry asked, his head spinning.

Hermione and Malfoy exchanged a long look and sighed. "That is a story that we've had to tell and retell over the years," Hermione said. "Pretty much the answer is that we married for love."

Harry frowned. "Can't I have a few more details than that?"

Malfoy sighed. "In my family, Potter, there's a Marriage Contract. I had to get married and Hermione here ended us as the lucky winner."

"How?" Harry interjected.

"I was the only one who met the specifications," Hermione answered dully.

"So we courted… then we split when my father found a frozen pureblood… I left her at the altar and Herms and I eloped."

"Frozen pureblood?" Harry echoed, marveling at the story.

"She's a herbologist. She's married to Neville, now," Hermione answered.

"She had some truly freaky notions about blood purity," Malfoy said, shaking his head disdainfully.

"Look who's talking…" Harry murmured. "Speaking of Neville, I ran into him not too long back."

"Did you?" Malfoy asked. "And did you pretend to be a stranger with him, too?"

"Once I was sure it was him, I removed the charm," Harry answered indignantly. "You do know that I have a very large amount of galleons on my head?"

Malfoy nodded. "The other Hermione filled us in."

"Poor thing…" Hermione said, sadly. "I can't believe he did that!"

"Who did what?" Harry asked.

"The other Draco, sending us here. I really thought we'd gotten through to him. We even named him Godfather," Hermione said, ruefully.

Malfoy slammed a fist into the table. "Well, we've got two choices here," Malfoy said. "One, we can figure out how to get us back to our dimension and curse that blackheart into next Tuesday, or, two, we can try and save the world, first."

Harry's jaw dropped. "You'd do that?"

"Oh, come on, Potter. You don't think that being married to Hermione for thirteen years that she wouldn't have rubbed off on me, just a little?"

"I suppose…" Harry said, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm a changed man, Potter. Deal with it. Hermione and I are in love."

Harry looked skeptically between the two. "You'll have to forgive me if I have a hard time believing it."

"I could kiss her. Would that make you feel any better?" Malfoy asked. Hermione giggled.

"Draco?" All three froze. Lucius' voice was now echoing through the house.

"Hide!" Malfoy hissed. "Just a moment, Father!" he called, heading in the direction of the man's voice.

Harry and Hermione were under the invisibility cloak in record time. After performing a silence charm they carefully followed after Malfoy.

"Yes, Father?" Malfoy asked, sidling into his living room where his father was perched on the couch.

"Ah, so there you are," the elder Malfoy said, turning to him. "Draco! What have you done to your hair?"

Malfoy faltered for a moment. "I decided to cut it," he answered lamely.

"I see… It makes you look… younger."

"Yes, I suppose so." Malfoy shifted awkwardly. "Is there any reason why you've decided to drop by?"

The elder Malfoy nodded curtly. "Your mother is not doing well, Draco. I want you to come over for dinner tonight."

Malfoy's face faltered slightly. Harry had a notion that this was really not the way he'd prefer to spend his evening. "What time?"

Lucius scratched his chin in thought. "Let's say… six." The old man fidgeted in his seat and Harry caught Malfoy frowning.

"Is there something else?"

Lucius cleared his throat. "She… you know how desperate she is for you to give her a grandchild…"

Malfoy's jaw clenched. "Yes?"

"She… wants you to bring the Mudblood." It looked as if this sentence had cost the man his entire vault at Gringotts'.

Malfoy almost smiled. "If you say so, Father, then I will."

Lucius coughed into a handkerchief. "Good, good." He stood. "I'd best be off, then. I'll see you tonight."

"See you, Father," Malfoy replied, a trifle cheerfully. As Lucius shut the door behind him, Malfoy burst into laughter. "I _can't_ believe this!" Hermione shrugged off the invisibility cloak. "Well, dearest, I guess we're going to court… again. Who knows, maybe we'll get married a third time!"

…

"What are you trying to say, Granger?" Draco asked, looking apprehensive.

"I was starting to like you, you idiot!" Granger cried.

He dropped his apple. "You… you… what?"

"Don't be so dense!" she wailed, her head in her arms and tears streaming profusely.

Draco was stunned. His hand slipped absently to rest on his leg and that was when he remembered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object. "Granger?" he said, tentatively.

"What, Malfoy?" she asked between sobs.

"Will you… marry me?" He held up the ring that her counterpart had worn, and he had removed before sending her to the other dimension.

Granger looked up, her tears temporarily forgotten. "What?"

Draco allowed the smallest of embarrassed smiles to grace his features.

A.N.: No GoF spoilers, please! Boy, can this plot get any more complicated? Oh, and I'm unsure if I'll be posting next week, due to the fact that I'm American and thus it'll be Thanksgiving break.


	28. Love Muffins

Sold-Chapter 28- Love Muffins

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: I believe that in Britain, muffins are what we in the U.S. think of as English Muffins. However, when I say muffins, I'm talking American muffins. You know, the kind that looks like a cupcake. I'm no international muffin expert, so this note might be completely ridiculous to those of you who are in actuality from England.

Hermione continued to stare, her mouth flopping open like a fish. Before she could even begin to think of a reply, both their heads whipped in the direction of the kitchen door. "Hermione! Malfoy!" It was Ron. Quick as a wink, Malfoy slipped the ring onto her finger and directed his wand at her hair, causing it to grow and cascade down her back in delicate ringlets. A red head popped through the doorway. "Ah, there you are," he said, letting himself in and sitting at the table. "Hope you don't mind I let myself in. Fred and George just gave these to me and I wanted to try them out." He pulled from his pocket a small package containing two muffins.

Malfoy kept his hand in his pocket, as if in warning to Hermione that he wouldn't hesitate to use his wand. "What are they?" he asked, slowly.

"New product," Ron said. He placed the package on the table and they could now see that the wrapper was covered in little pink and white hearts. In fancy red script were the words, "Love Muffins."

Hermione resisted the urge to scratch her neck. Her newly elongated hair was tickling her. "You said Fred and George made them?" she asked, slowly, her hesitation apparent. She'd seen neither hide nor hair of the twins since the final battle.

"Yup. See, what you do is, is one person eats one and their love interest eats the other and, judging by what colors your tongues turn, you can tell if they fancy you or not." Both Hermione and Malfoy colored, the same thought going through their heads. "So I figured I'd try them out on you. That all right?" Without waiting for an answer, he opened the package and handed a small blueberry muffin to each of them. They both stared at them. Malfoy was the first to start eating his.

"Go on, Hermione," he said. "It's only a muffin." With great trepidation she ate the other.

"Swallow it all, I don't want to see anything, now," Ron said, sniggering. "All right, now both of you stick out your tongues and I'll tell you what the colors mean. They both hesitated before obediently sticking out their tongues. Ron looked down at the wrapper to see the color chart, while they both exchanged a nervous look. "Right. So you both have a spot of red—that's romantic love." Their eyes widened. "And some black, that's attraction. Blue—that's dislike—must be from your childhood. And then there's some white, that's wedding bells." Hermione felt like her eyes were about to pop out.

"That it?" Malfoy asked, closing his mouth.

"Yep." Ron sniggered. "Maybe you should send a package of these to Evander. Reckon he'd like to give a muffin to Lily!"

Hermione bit her lip and smiled, ever so slightly. Malfoy managed a grimace-like smile.

"Well, got to run. See you," Ron said, standing up and heading to the door.

"Yeah, see you, Ron," Hermione called, feeling doomed as Malfoy once again turned to her for an answer.

…

Evander sat with Ben and Ryan in the stands cheering as the players marched onto the field. Evander had a pair of omnioculars focused to see if a certain raven-haired girl was playing. Sure enough, in the role of seeker, was Lily Potter. The Weasley boy with the job of commentator announced her over the intercom. "And home again, home again, jiggedy jig is Lily Potter, Gryffindor seeker. I've heard her middle name is Ithaca, and after her return yesterday, folks, I'm thinking it's pretty suiting. Anyway, Potter's circling the pitch. April Bludwurm, Slytherin seeker, is right behind her." Everyone except the Slytherins booed. Evander watched as Lily floated like an angel over the pitch, keeping watch for the snitch.

"And it's ten points to Gryffindor after a gnarly shot from chaser, Yvonna Wood!" Evander cheered heartily. "And a spectacular save by Slytherin keeper, Edward Nott!" Evander cheered again, having been raised to respect both houses, though his friends looked at him as though he was mental. "Foul! Gryffindor chaser, Basil Crumby aims… and he scores! Tough luck for you, Nott!" Evander cheered, mentally deciding to cheer at everything. "A nasty blow to the head directed to Crumby by Slytherin beater Wulfric Wegener earns yet another foul! Better luck next time, Slythy!"

"Weasley!" Professor McGonagall shouted.

"Gracious professor… Anyway, Crumby aims… and it looks like he's fainting… No, it's just a ploy! Crumby scores! Twenty-nothing to Gryffindor!" Evander watched patiently, all the while direction his omnioculars back up to watch Lily. She was circling the pitch, occasionally going into a lazy eight flying formation. April Bludwurm, a girl who seemed to have a rather large vendetta against him, kept on her tail. Quite suddenly Lily went into a spectacular dive. Evander frantically looked in the direction of her dive to see if he could spot the snitch, but he didn't see anything. Just as quickly as Lily had gone into her dive, she pulled out again, sending April crashing toward the ground. Lily then proceeded to swoop to her right, up, and around the pitch and grabbed at something shiny that had been floating next to one of the Slytherin goal hoops, not three feet from where April and been flying thirty seconds earlier. "And Lily Potter catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins! That's all folks! Game's over! Shoo!" Evander clapped so hard his hands stung. He joined the throng of Ravenclaws who were hurrying toward the pitch to congratulate Gryffindor.

"Lily!" Evander yelled, gleefully, once he'd managed to get within ten feet of her. The entire Gryffindor team was clapping her on the back, cheerfully. "Lily, I caught the whole thing on my omnioculars! Want to see?" he asked, yelling over the crowd. Lily didn't appear to have heard him.

"Great job, Potter!" a fifth year Gryffindor boy shouted, swooping in for a hug. Evander felt his heart sink as Lily hugged him back. Once she'd torn away from him, her eyes turned to rest on Evander, who was trying his best to keep smiling.

"Hey, Ev!" she shouted, gesturing for him to come closer.

"Oh, hello Malfoy," the fifth year said, frowning slightly. Evander ignored him.

"Lily! That was excellent! I caught the whole thing on my omnioculars!" he said, shoving his way through the crowd.

"Really? Let me see," she said, taking them from him and pressing the replay button. "Awesome! Thanks, Ev!" She smiled down at him.

"No problem." Evander smiled back.

"I'll see you back at the common room, Lily," the fifth year said, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "Malfoy," he added, nodding his head at him. Evander couldn't help but glare a little.

"Bye, Rob!" Lily called after him. She turned back to Evander and smiled before putting an arm over his shoulders and walking toward the castle.

…

Draco put the last finishing touches on Hermione's hair, so that it was as short as her counterpart's. "And now we just need a dress," he said, holding his chin in his hand. "I think I have just the thing." He went into a closet and returned with a plum colored floor-length gown. "This, madam, is for you," he said, smiling at his wife and his possible future fiancée. After she had changed, he offered her his arm and they made their way toward Malfoy Manor, Harry following silently in his invisibility cloak.

A.N.: I'm seeing GoF this afternoon. No spoilers! Oh, and now that I can reply to reviews, make sure you sign in so that I can get back to you.


	29. Rejection and Matchmaking

Sold-Chapter 29-Rejection and Matchmaking

By Marmalade Fever

"Well?" Malfoy asked, looking suddenly nervous. "What do you say?"

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. "Are you out of your mind? No! I am not marrying you!"

Malfoy frowned. "Perhaps I should explain a few things."

"Such as?" she asked, slightly hysterical.

"Granger," he shook his head, "Hermione, stop and think for a moment, will you? I plan to stay here, with you, pretending to be married for a very, very long time. I'm not going to find anyone. You're not going to find anyone. Why not marry one another? Did you or did you not confess only minutes ago that you like me?"

Hermione stayed resolute. "I believe my exact words to be, 'I was starting to like you,' as in, I don't anymore."

Malfoy looked somewhat forlorn. "Are you sure? Have you forgotten the results of the love muffins so quickly? Romantic love, affection… wedding bells!"

"Dislike," Hermione added, grumpily.

"Hermione," he said, again using her first name, "the last few days… I've had this feeling. I look at you and I try to tell myself that you look like a wasted, old crone… but it's a lie. I'm attracted to you. Do you know what that means? I'm never attracted to anyone! At least, no much."

Hermione scoffed. "Like I care?"

Malfoy smirked. "I saw the way your eyes lit up when my counterpart said he was an author. It was like you were thinking… that I had possibilities." He paused. "Come to the library with me? I saw something in there you might want to see." He offered her a hand and she grumpily took it as he led her off toward the library. He held her hand delicately, as if afraid to squeeze it. He opened the door for her and led her to a bookshelf. He used a summoning charm to get a book from the top shelf. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "It has a charm on it, so no one under twenty-five can read it. Probably to prevent Evander from learning too much too soon."

Hermione took the book from him and gazed in wonder at it. "Courting Miss Granger," by Draco Malfoy. "He… wrote a book… on how they got together?" Hermione said slowly, flipping it open.

"So it would seem," Malfoy said, nodding. "I found it while I was researching trans-dimensional summoning charms. Not bad, either. I read some."

Hermione flipped through and read a few odd bits. Who knew that Draco Malfoy could write? She found a passage in a chapter in which he'd described her as an angel and she allowed a small smile to grace her features. A few pages later she stumbled across a kissing scene and quickly snapped the book closed.

"Well?" Malfoy asked, taking the book away from her and flipping through it himself.

"Well, what? This doesn't prove anything, Malfoy. You are no longer the same person as the author of this book… and goodness knows that I'm no longer the same as his subject." She crossed her arms and stared resolutely into his eyes. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to reject your generous offer."

Malfoy frowned. "May I say one last thing?"

"You're the one with the wand, Malfoy. Not me."

Malfoy stretched to his full height, towering over her. "Hermione Granger, you infuriate me like no other."

"Is that the best you've got?" she asked.

"No," he said simply. He pushed her against the bookshelf and leaned forward and whispered, "I've got this." And their lips met in perfect unison.

…

Draco led Hermione down the familiar, yet oddly darker, path to the Malfoy Manor. Everything was so much more… shadowy, for the lack of a better word. It seemed as if it took forever for them to reach the edge of the forest and emerge onto the elder Malfoys' property. Draco had at first wanted to simply apparate onto the front lawn, but Hermione had been quick to remind him that his parents didn't know that she was a Malfoy, so it would never do for them to catch her successfully arriving in such a manner. Besides, Harry was with them.

"This feels so much like that first time we came here… for your birthday," Hermione muttered. Draco smiled.

"You were as lovely then as you are now," he said, flattering her as best he could.

"Really? Even though I'm now at a horribly old age and have short hair?"

"Come, come, dearest. You're hair's not that bad." He winked. Hermione punched him gently in the arm. "And I suppose you're not that old either."

"That's better," Hermione said, rubbing at the spot she'd punched him to show that all had been forgiven. A few paces behind them, Harry watched in slight disgust at their loving display.

"And here we are… at the Malfoy Manor," Draco said. An idea occurred to him and he reached into his pocket for a spare wand he'd found in the other Draco's desk. "Now you can be my prisoner," he jested.

"Right you are," Hermione said, as her husband knocked on the large ornate doors. A moment later a little elf greeted them and Hermione had to pretend as if she weren't familiar with the elf.

"Right this way, Master Draco, Miss." The elf led them up several flights and into one of the many dining rooms. (The house was just that huge.)

"Ah, so you made it?" Lucius Malfoy said, looking both pleased and somewhat ill at the same time. "Sit down, Draco… you too…" he added, gesturing to Hermione. "Your mother will be here in a moment… her health."

Draco nodded somberly. Narcissa Malfoy arrived a minute later via levitation, much to weak to walk. When she caught sight of Hermione she smiled genuinely. "Draco, come, give your mother a kiss." Draco rose hesitantly and did as he was told. "So this is your…" she gazed off, as if trying to think of a proper word, "new companion?"

Lucius scoffed slightly and muttered something like, "Companion… acquisition… humbug."

Draco nodded. "Mother, this is Hermione Granger," he said, trying his best to sound as if he were only feigning politeness.

"Come here, girl, let me take a look at you," Narcissa said, extending her arms to Hermione. Hermione placed her hands into Narcissa's. "You have… such excellent skin," she muttered. "Nice high cheek bones… good. Extremely curly hair… that's not so bad, I suppose. Brown eyes, brown hair… it will have to do…" Narcissa smiled at Hermione again before saying in a voice that sounded as if it were meant for either someone very deaf or very young, "You're very pretty."

"Thank you," Hermione said, half-smiling, half-grimacing at the strange appraisal. She returned to her seat beside Draco.

Draco remained silent, very unsure of how his counterpart would react in such a situation. Narcissa continued, now directing a line of questioning to him. "She's smart, is she not?"

Draco nodded. "So smart, in fact, I think she's perfectly capable of answering your questions herself, Mother."

Narcissa frowned. "Yes, I suppose, Draco. Miss Granger, I wonder… have you any hereditary diseases in your family?"

Hermione blinked. "Not to my knowledge, Mrs. Malfoy," she said.

"Really?" she asked. "How did your parents die?"

Hermione had to catch herself. She was thinking of her parents back in her own world, who were both perfectly alive and well. "Muggle persecution," she answered simply, hoping that this was the truth.

Narcissa smiled before asking a very impolite question. "Are you fertile?"

Hermione blanched and choked on a sip of water. "I… believe so," she said, unconsciously patting her not-yet-rounded, pregnant belly. Off in the corner of the room, Lucius continued to roll his eyes.

"Excellent, excellent!" Narcissa clapped her hands and food appeared on the table. "Draco, I approve of Miss Granger."

Hermione pretended to not know what was happening and turned what she hoped were confused eyes on Draco. "Er," he responded, smirking.

Narcissa, after a long draught of water, continued. "Draco, I suggest the two of you… try to get to know one another." Lucius laughed haughtily into his food. Narcissa turned disapproving eyes on him. "You know what I want, Draco," she continued, still staring at Lucius. "I do not care whether you marry," she muttered at last, "but I want her pregnant, do you understand?" Hermione pretended to look shocked, which she was, and stared at Narcissa as if she'd sprouted another head.

"Excuse me?" she asked, raising her voice. "Don't I have a say in this? Or even Draco, for that matter?"

Narcissa turned scathing eyes on her. "Draco has had his chance to remarry. As for you… there are no rights for filthy mudbloods." She shook, her illness becoming more apparent. "I want to live to see my grandchild! There is no time to waste!"


	30. Winging Swiftly Through the Sky

Sold-Chapter 30-Winging Swiftly Through the Sky

By Marmalade Fever

As Malfoy kissed her, Hermione took a few seconds to think of a plan. Carefully, she shifted into a position that forced his arms up. Then, in only two seconds, she rapidly morphed into a swallow, flew out from under his arms, turned back into her original form, and grabbed his wand from his inside pocket, all while his arms collapsed in on thin air, lips still puckered. "Don't move!" she commanded, holding the wand as if she were fencing. Malfoy looked up, startled and furious. Hermione pointed the wand toward a chair. "Sit down, Malfoy." She gritted her teeth as he backed into the chair. Ropes came out of the wand and bound him.

"Now what, Miss Granger?" he asked, as she pocketed the wand.

"You're going to stay here, Mr. Malfoy," she said, fiercely.

"And you?" he asked.

"_I_ am going out." She took a step toward the fireplace.

"Don't bother. I took the liberty of removing all the floo powder in the house," Malfoy uttered. "I wouldn't apparate, either."

"Why not?" she asked.

"I took the safeguard of putting up a few wards." He smirked innocently.

"Well, then. I'll fly!" And she morphed into a swallow and flew out the open window.

…

"Bellatrix?" the Dark Lord queried from his skul encrusted throne.

"Yes, my Lord?" she asked, lowering he eyes and staring at his shins.

"What new have you of the scrap of paper Lucius found?"

"It is nothing, my Lord. I am afraid his age is catching up to him," she said, praying he wouldn't detect her lies.

He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Yes," he said at last. "Perhaps it is time to offer him retirement…"

"Retirement, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, her voice somewhat higher than usual.

The Dark Lord nodded and dismissed her. Bellatrix quickly returned to her laboratory, clutching her heart. She turned back to her research.

…

After Hermione had flown a few miles, she morphed back to her human form and focused her mind on the village of Hogsmeade. It was difficult to get a clear picture in her head. The last she'd seen of it, it had been smoldering. She arrived a meter away from Honeydukes and almost immediately began to stare at a display of chocolate. Chocolate… she missed it so. She had to shake her head to remind herself that 1) she was on a mission, and 2) she didn't have any money. It didn't stop her from frowning. She hadn't had any breakfast yet. Just a love muffin. Grudgingly she trudged away and began the walk to Hogwarts.

It had been a very long time since she'd felt this sort of freedom. Freedom to simply walk down a road in broad daylight. She supposed she had Malfoy to thank for that… He had, after all, brought her to his home to solve the mystery of Evander. Had he not done so, she'd still be in the other dimension. She was quickly forgetting the other bidders. There had been other bidders, right? Yes, of course. If he hadn't bought her, one of them would. She could have still been there… owned by a demented stranger.

Her thoughts of Malfoy naturally drifted to a more recent matter. He'd kissed her… again! Three times now the great git had the gall to kiss her! He'd even asked her to marry him! The nerve of some people! She painfully had to admit something to herself, however. It—the kiss—really hadn't been all that bad. The thought settled on her brain like lead. That stupid, stupid love muffin! Why did it have to betray her like that? So she was attracted to him… it wasn't as if she were madly in love with him. She hated his very being. And yet… what was it she said only an hour earlier? That she was starting to like him? He had been acting surprisingly civilly in the other dimension. And it wasn't as if he'd actually taken his father's advice and tortured her…

Hermione felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Why did she have to feel so bloody conflicted?

She resolutely continued on into Hogwarts Castle, went up the many flights of stairs, and stared at the gargoyles guarding the Headmaster's office.

…

"Hey, there! Potter, Malfoy!" Lily and Evander slowed on their walk toward the castle. A seventh year whose name Evander was unfamiliar with had stopped them.

"Yes?" they asked, turning.

"Professor Dumbledore wants you in his office," the boy said, sounding smug. "I wouldn't dilly dally if I were you." Evander and Lily exchanged a look. "It sounds as if he wanted to talk to you earlier, but since you were at the match…"

"Thanks, Elwood," Lily said, nodding. She may have been four years younger than the boy, but she did know a few more names of elder students than Evander. "Come on, we best get going," she told him, her arm still draped across his shoulders in what he hoped was not meant to be a sisterly manner. They made their way up to Dumbledore's office and stepped inside after correctly guessing the password. (A.N.: My cat was just licking my hand while I was typing…) Evander's jaw dropped as he found his mother sitting at the desk. She turned sorrowful eyes on him.

"What's wrong, Mum?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm the other one, Evander. I'm afraid Malfoy sent your parents to the other dimension."

"Not to worry, though," Dumbledore said, quickly. "I'm working on a solution. I'll be sending both Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy…" he trailed off, looking thoughtful, "the other Mr. Malfoy, to the alternate dimension. Miss Granger will then be in charge of restoring your parents to you."

A.N.: Yes, very short. Yes, ending sucky. I'm not in a writing mood at the moment. Future updates may be somewhat erratic.


	31. Two of Each, Again

Sold-Chapter 31-Two of Each, Again

By Marmalade Fever

Draco sat alone in the library, nodding off. He was so bored! Confound that woman! He had tried in vain to read by turning pages with his feet, but he couldn't see the print well enough.

He had come to a conclusion. He had made a horrible mistake in sending the "Good" Malfoys to his own dimension. Now that he had stopped to think about it (for several hours) he'd realized just how foolish he'd been. So he'd been able to use the cross-dimensional summoning (or rather dismissing) spell. It was only going to be a matter of time before the other two figure out how to do it and return. And then there was Granger… Odds were he'd blown any chance he had of ever wooing her. Besides, hadn't he insulted her by not realizing just how cunning she could be? He'd had her captive for all of… twenty minutes? And she'd held him captive in this chair for… he didn't know how many hours now.

Draco's eyes widened as he watched the flames in the fireplace burn emerald. His darling Granger stepped out, followed by (surprise, surprise) Dumbledore. Then came Evander and Lily, just along for the ride, he supposed.

Granger glared at him. He noticed that she was still wearing her pajamas from that morning, having never been able to return to her room to dress.

"Well, then," Dumbledore said, surveying him through his half-moon spectacles. "I think, Mr. Malfoy, that it is time for you to return to your home."

"Lovely," Draco scoffed. "Now if someone would be so kind as to untie me…"

"Why certainly," Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling. He waved his wand and the cords disappeared. Draco groaned and stretched.

"Thank you," he said primly. He stood.

Evander watched him, hesitantly. "I just don't get you," he said, shrugging. Lily turned to raise an eyebrow at the boy.

"I'm evil," Draco said, simply. "What more is there to get?" He chanced a glance at Hermione, but she looked away quickly.

Evander shook his head. "No, I don't think you are. Not completely." Draco's heart swelled inside him and for a moment… he felt compassion toward his sort-of-kind-of son.

A thought struck him, and Draco turned to Lily. "You're… two years older than him?" he asked, carefully.

"Yeah," she said, her Potterness on high. "So?"

Draco could feel Granger's eyes boring into him and he turned to Dumbledore. "Mind if I have a word with Evander? Alone?" he asked, holding up his hands to show he was unarmed. The old man nodded and ushered the two females from the room. Draco turned to face Evander, kneeling down to be on level with him. "You really like her, don't you?" he asked, slowly.

Evander frowned, obviously unsure of why the man was bringing this up now. "Yes. Am I that transparent?"

Draco smiled softly… the boy had Granger wit. "Take this advice and don't ask me why… If you love her… marry her before you turn twenty-five. Trust me."

Evander looked as if he'd just been told that muggles were actually more magical than wizards. "Excuse me?" he asked.

"I…" Draco hesitated. "I don't think I can say much more. I'll just say this. She's more than a year older than you… so when you're twenty-five, she'll be _out-of-bounds_."

Evander tilted his head, but nodded. "Thank you," he said, after a great pause.

"And let me tell you that I'm no fan of being related to Harry Potter. This is…"

"Your way of saying you care?" the boy asked, a small smile creeping onto his face. "Thank you," he paused, "Dad."

Draco felt a small wave of warmth wash through him. "You're welcome." After he stood, Draco paused for a moment, to make sure that he wasn't in danger of an anvil falling from the sky onto his head. When he was sure that he wasn't cursed, he called for the other to come back in.

"Ah," Dumbledore said, smiling knowingly. "I see you're ready?" Draco and Hermione (when had he started calling her that?) nodded. "I suggest you go ahead and say your good-byes, and then, if you'd stand together, I'll perform the spell."

Draco stopped. "Wait, you're going too?" he asked, turning to her.

She nodded. "I can't leave you to send those two back on your own, now can I?" she said. "Besides, my place isn't here. I belong in that fiery-pit you call a home," she said succinctly.

"You've thought this through?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, shut up, Malfoy, lest I start to think you have a heart in you, after all." She turned to Evander and Lily. "Give me a hug, kids," she said, opening her arms wide to receive them. She whispered something in their ears. "Bye," she added.

Draco stuck out his hand to shake Evander's, who was still looking rather skeptically at him. "See you around," he said.

"Yeah," Evander agreed. "See you around."

Hermione approached Dumbledore and wrapped him in a hug. "Good-bye Professor. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed seeing you again."

"As to you, Miss Granger." The very old man gestured for her to stand next to Draco. He took out his wand. "One… two… three…"

…

Draco, Hermione, and Harry, still under the cover of invisibility cloak, returned to the small manor, positively seething. "How dare that old cow? I mean, really?" Hermione muttered, hands shaking.

"Easy, Hermione, easy," Draco tried to calm her. "She's just… desperate."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I can see where she's coming from… but did you happen to notice that she was treating me like a mongrel dog that she was hesitantly deciding to use to breed puppies?" She kicked the rather ornate grandfather clock that stood in the room. "Let me tell you something, Draco, if I were the other Hermione, I'd have punched your mother square in the jaw!"

"And as it is," he said, attempting to soothe her, "we're lucky you're you, and that we're already married, and that you're already having my baby."

"OUR baby," she corrected, still in a minor fury.

"Yes, dear," he said, nodding quickly.

Harry shed his cloak and sat down on a couch. "You must be married," he muttered. "You sure sound like it." Hermione gave him a scathing look and sat down in a huff. Quite suddenly they heard a crash coming from the next room.

"What was that?" Draco asked, craning his head to see around the doorframe. He laughed. "I should have known."

"What?" Hermione asked, looking up.

"We have company," he said, smiling. He walked into the next room and returned with two very familiar looking people, since they were near-exact duplicates of two of the people already in the room. Harry sat up quickly, his jaw dropping.

The just arrived Hermione, with her recently elongated hair, gasped. "Harry?" she asked, before bounding forward and giving her old friend a very large hug.

"Couldn't keep her under control, eh?" one Draco said to the other, who shrugged discontentedly.

"Hermione!" Harry cried, actual tears leaking from his eyes. He spun her around in a little dance. As the commotion died down, Harry stepped back from his friend and surveyed the four in front of him. "This is just going to get too confusing," he said, blinking at them all. "You two," he gestured to the married couple, "you'll be Hermione and Draco A, and you other two, you'll be Hermione and Draco… Malfoy I should say, B."

Malfoy B frowned and gave Harry a look that could kill.

A.N.: I wrote this chapter a little earlier in the day and now I don't feel an enormous computer-ache coming on. I'm going to try and continue with the A and B labels to keep the confusion down. I'm so glad I got to fit in that section with Evander. Merry Christmas! Oh, and halfway to 1000 reviews, everyone, keep it up!


	32. 2 Hermiones are Better than 1

Sold-Chapter 32-Two Hermiones are Better Than One

By Marmalade Fever

A: Original Hermione and Draco from CMG.

B: The new ones from Sold.

Both Hermiones headed upstairs to bed while Draco A and Harry decided what to do with Malfoy B. They ended up sticking him in Evander's old room with a few wards to prevent him from escaping. At long last, all five were snuggled safely in bed and the rather eventful Saturday ended, to be replaced by Sunday, a new week that promised a new beginning.

As Hermione B rested in what had been Lily's room, her head was abuzz with thought. Malfoy B was throwing her for a loop. On Friday, he'd been tolerable. They'd started the day out in the dungeon with him tied to a chair. He'd been moody once they reached the other dimension. Upon arrival at the manor, they'd had a spat and he'd kissed her. Later at the dinner party they'd both been named God-parents. This morning he'd sent their other halves to this dimension and tried to force her into pretending to be his wife, followed by his brash proposal. After the whole Love Muffin fiasco, he'd had the nerve to show her that book and then kiss her… again! But when he'd said good-bye to Evander… he'd seemed perfectly agreeable again. What was wrong with him? Was he completely bi-polar? She rolled over and snuggled against a pillow, thoughts still on the man in the next room.

The morning dawned with its usual lack of sunshine and the first thought that entered Hermione B's head upon opening her eyes was that her pajamas were red. The day before, they had been a pale lilac. Odd… Hermione A had loaned them to her Friday night, and she still hadn't had the chance to change. Not that she was particularly used to changing clothes from day to day… but still.

There was a knock at her door and she called her consent to her visitor. It was Malfoy. Which Malfoy, though… she could only assume him to be A. "Ah," he said, smirking, "now that brings back memories!"

She frowned. "Hmm?"

Draco laughed. "Those pajamas! I wasn't sure if they were the same ones."

"Again, hmm?" she asked.

"Oh, right. You see, they're Herms'. She had them while we were courting." Hermione raised a disapproving eyebrow. "I used to pop in to see her in the mornings," he added quickly.

"I see."

"They change color every Sunday. Quite frankly, I'm surprised the charm hasn't worn off."

Hermione nodded. "Must be extra strong." There was an uncomfortable pause.

"Well," he said, "the elves insisted on making breakfast, so we might as well go and eat it." He offered an arm and she took it. When they entered the kitchen, they found Harry and Malfoy B staring daggers at one another. Malfoy B's mood did not seem to improve one bit when he noticed that Hermione B and Draco A's arms were linked.

"Well, isn't this lovely," he scoffed, breaking eye contact with Harry.

"Oh, put a sock in it," his counterpart countered, withdrawing his arm from Hermione B's. He went to sit down at the counter with his wife, who was already consuming a large stack of pancakes. "Eating for two, eh Love?" he said, kissing the side of her head.

Hermione B turned her head away from them, a small pang of jealousy rising up in her. Kobby the house-elf bobbed forward. "Would Miss like a pancake?" he asked, solemnly.

"Why, yes, I would. Thank you," she replied, sitting down. "You know, Kobby, you are free. You don't have to get us anything."

Kobby looked affronted. "It is Kobby's pleasure, Miss."

She nodded. "If you insist." She had to admit those little house-elves looked really cute in their outfits. She took some pride in Evander's transfiguration abilities, though Lily had probably done most of the spell-casting.

"Well, then," Draco A began, as the lot of them finished breakfast, "what now?"

"Maybe you should go home," his counterpart suggested, hunched over the table with his arms crossed, scowling. Hermione A rolled her eyes at him.

"Any other suggestions?" Draco A continued, ignoring B altogether.

Harry tugged at his collar, uncomfortably. Hermione B watched him carefully. "Do you think," he began cautiously, "that maybe I could take you up on your offer from yesterday?"

"You want me to cut your hair?" Draco A asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Harry coughed into his hand. "Well, that, too… But I meant…"

"Relax, Harry," Hermione A cut in, "we'd love to help you save the world." She flashed him a smile.

"Hold the phone," Draco A started, causing Hermione B to shake her head in wonder at his use of muggle phrases. "I don't think you should be doing anything dangerous, 'Mione! It's out of the question."

"Excuse me?" she asked, her voice challenging. Draco A took it in stride.

"You're pregnant. I'll not have you endanger our daughter while off gallivanting around. Besides," he jerked his hand toward Hermione B, "we've already got one of you lovely geniuses."

"Two Hermiones are better than one," his wife bit back. "But… I suppose you're right."

"Good, we'll station you somewhere safe, then," her husband said, heaving a sigh of relief.

"So we are saving the world, then?" Harry asked, looking as if he dared not believe his own luck.

"Of course," the couple said in unison.

"Harry," Hermione B said, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples before looking at him, "I've been trying to figure out… what's the difference between the two worlds? What was that minor change in decision? I tried to figure it out with Lily… but we couldn't narrow it down."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Malfoy," he said, turning to B, "do you have a pensieve?"

"Yeah…"

"I want to compare memories," Harry said.

"Compare memories?" Hermione A asked, also looking thoughtful. She looked to her counterpart. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so," she replied. "And if we can do it, then we might save this dimension yet."

"What are they talking about?" Malfoy B asked A.

"I'm not sure… but you can be sure that whatever it is… it's brilliant. Put those two together, and they can solve anything."

"Don't I know it," Malfoy B said, staring at a certain brunette in awe.

A.N.: I now officially have the same number of chapters as Courting Miss Granger. Rest assured, there are several more to come. I finally figured out what's going to happen. (I thought I knew, but then the characters decided they didn't like it and took matters into their own hands.) Again, updates will be erratic, be it in a good way or bad. In the words of cute, little Harry in Sorcerer's Stone, "Happy Christmas!"


	33. The Memory

Sold-Chapter 33-The Memory

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: I'll be switching back and forth between the A (original couple) and B (Sold couple) labeling and the old method of describing who they are.

"Narcissa, don't you think you're being a bit…" Lucius began.

"Shush," his wife scolded, before coughing into her handkerchief so hard that she was left gasping for breath. Lucius knelt by her side and rubbed circles into her back. "I…" she said slowly, still regaining her breath, "just want… one thing. Just one. And I'm sorry, but… I don't care… I just don't care, Lucius."

"I know," he said, sighing. He looked up as he heard a tap at the window and left her side to allow a sleek, black owl to enter. It held its foot out to him and he removed a letter. He read over it slowly, color draining from his face.

"What is it?" Narcissa asked.

"I… the Dark Lord, he…"

"What?" Narcissa asked, alarmed.

"He's ordered my retirement…"

Narcissa breathed again. "Well, well! What's so bad about that?"

"Cissy," Lucius said, slowly, "he's going to kill me."

…

The three wizards and two witches sat huddled around the pensieve. Without ceremony, Harry lifted his want to his temple and pulled out a pearly strand of memory. After he placed it in the pensieve, he nodded to everyone and they all leaned forward into the basin.

They landed in what was unmistakably the charms corridor at Hogwarts. Ahead of them were three figures: a seventeen-year-old Harry Potter, an eighteen-year old Hermione Granger, and an eighteen-year-old Ron Weasley. All three were power-walking down the corriedor. "Right," young Harry said, "you, Ron, you go down to the Great Hall… warn everybody!" Ron nodded and jogged off.

"What about me, Harry?" young Hermione asked, her bushy hair bouncing.

"I remember this," Hermione A commented. Harry shushed her.

"You come with me," young Harry continued. "I'm going to need all the help I can get." They continued down the corridor at top speed, dashing down steps two at a time.

"Do you remember being… in such good shape?" Hermione B asked her counterpart.

"N-no…" was the reply.

"This isn't working, Harry. Here," young Hermione said, casting a spell that made their legs look like mere blurs as they ran faster.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Malfoy B muttered, now running to keep up. All five adults were panting. The two young adults sped ahead, passing by a rattled Sir Nicholas.

"Watch out for Peeves!" one of the older Hermiones warned herself as they ran below a lackadaisical poltergeist, who seemed content to ignore them. Quite suddenly, the two young ones halted. The five spectators held stitches in their sides.

"Which way?" young Harry asked.

"I…" young Hermione began, looking first left, then right, "I don't know," she finally said, indecisively.

Young Harry was shaking slightly with adrenaline. "Left," he said, nodding, and they turned.

"You're kidding me, right?" the married Hermione asked, somewhat bewildered.

"What?" her husband asked, as they broke into another jog.

"That was the difference! He turned left instead of right! Left!"

Her husband paled. "Oh, Sweet Merlin, no!"

"What?" the other Hermione asked.

"We're headed straight for my ambush!" Draco B said, also looking ashamed.

"Ambush?" the first Hermione repeated, sounding a tad-bit offended. Her husband sent her an apologetic glance.

"It was a long, long time ago, dearest… I love you, now," he added hopefully.

Further down the passage they could just make out the silhouette of a figure with silver-blond hair. "Malfoy!" Young Harry was seething. He held his wand aloft.

"Harry, no!" young Hermione begged, though she, too, held her wand out.

Young Draco's eyes flicked from Harry's to Hermione's for a moment. "This is between me and Potter, Granger," he said, gruffly.

"I didn't call you a mudblood," married Draco murmured, relieved.

"Get out of the way, Ferret," young Hermione spat, her teeth clenched.

Young Harry took a large breath and aimed. "Alo kaleem!" A blazing purple light shot from young Harry's wand toward young Draco's chest, but at the last second a shield charm stopped it, forcing it to reverberate toward Harry, knocking him flat.

"No!" young Hermione screeched, as young Harry began to vanish.

Young Draco's face shone gray as young Hermione punched him in the stomach before running off in the other direction.

Young Harry's image flickered before he disappeared completely and the memory halted.

…

The five adults sat in a stupor around the pensieve. "Alo kaleem?" married Draco asked, confused.

"Dark magic," his wife answered. "It's a vanishing charm, of sorts."

"Dead painful," Harry added. "I didn't reappear for ten hours or so, caught in a sort of limbo. Lucky for me, no one was around when I reappeared, so I was able to put on my invisibility cloak and slip away unnoticed."

"By then it was too late," the second Hermione added, her face rigid. And uncomfortable silence fell on all of them.

Unmarried Malfoy stood and left the room. A moment later, unmarried Hermione followed. She watched him take a flight of stairs and kept twenty or so paces behind. After he slipped into his room, she paused and went in behind him. She found him lying on his bed, staring up at the canopy. "It's my fault, then," he said, in barely a whisper.

An unfamiliar feeling swept through Hermione: pity for Draco Malfoy. "No, it's not," she said firmly.

"I suppose it's your fault, then, for not choosing to turn right?"

"And Harry's… and, it's no one's fault at all. It was just a stupid mistake, Malfoy."

"I wish I'd known what it was I was gambling away back then," he said, dolefully.

"The souls of countless innocents?" she asked, staring into the corner of the room.

Malfoy laughed dryly. "Smartest witch under the age of fifty… and she doesn't even know when the answer is herself." He turned his eyes toward her.

Hermione's expression didn't falter but she sat down by his side and held his hand. She leaned forward. "You are not in love with me, Draco Malfoy."

He frowned and gave her hand a squeeze. "Maybe, maybe not. But what matters is that there is potential… oh yes, Granger, there is. I've seen it." She stared at him in the eyes. "And I do so want to love you," he added, barely above a whisper.

Hermione lifted her hand and stroked the side of his head before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. "I know," she said. "I know." She left his side and closed the door behind her. "And I want to love you," she added, quietly to herself. 


	34. Smart Witches' Smart Plan

Sold-Chapter 34-Smart Witches' Smart Plan

By Marmalade Fever

The two Hermiones sat together, discussing their options. As they had thought, they had both been thinking the same thing the other was thinking: time travel. It was by far the simplest method of achieving their goal. Granted, to almost anyone else, time travel would be one of the most difficult and obviously least simple things to do. However, this was Hermione Granger… and Hermione Malfoy to boot. Both were head girl at Hogwarts in their day and both were, simply put, the same person. Two absolute geniuses! Any wrinkle in their plan that one would come up with, the other could iron out easily. After using the extent of their knowledge gained from their previous time travel experience from their third year, they were able to concoct an almost fool-proof recipe for a potion that would be able to send all of them back to the night in question, when Harry had mistakenly turned left down the corridor. In short, Hermione, regardless of marital status, was one hard witch to stump.

"So," the presently short-haired, married Hermione began, giving her counterpart a sideways glance, "I've been wondering, Hermione…"

"Yes?" the presently long-haired, unmarried Hermione answered, suddenly somewhat nervous with her counterpart.

"Do you think you and Draco, your Draco, not mine, will be… a couple anytime soon?" she asked, a glint in her eye.

Hermione gulped. "W-what, what would make you think that?" she asked, pretending to busy herself by chopping up exactly eleven green cardamom pods.

Her other half smiled. "Call it… Hermione intuition." She winked. "You do fancy him, don't you?" she asked.

She continued to chop up the cardamom, her hands shaking slightly now. "Maybe…" she said, before looking up sheepishly.

The first Hermione clapped her hands together. "Oh! This is just like reading a romance novel! Well, sort-of…"

She snorted as she set down her knife. "When have either of us ever read a romance novel?" A small grin was beginning to form on her own face.

"Well… never, but still," her counterpart said, unable to suppress a small fit of giggles. "How about I say it's just like a fairy tale? With a happy ending in view?" she said, gesturing to her potion.

Hermione's face fell at her words. "Except for one thing," she said. "You're forgetting… after we change the past, neither myself nor Dr—Malfoy will remember any of this. We'll be completely new people, now won't we?"

The other Hermione proceeded to mull this information over. "Unless… you put a note in our younger form's pocket suggesting she ask young Mr. Malfoy out on a date…"

Hermione laughed so hard at this that she had to clasp at her glands in her neck because shooting pains had gone through them. "My dear self, you seem to be neglecting a very important piece of information, two, actually. First off, that still wouldn't solve the problem of all our memories disappearing, and second… I really don't we'd listen to a mysterious note we found in our robe pocket! Never mind that he'd turn us down flat!"

The other Hermione remained sober at this. "OR," she continued, "put the note in young Draco's pocket and insist he ask _you_ out."

"And his incentive?"

She stopped to think. "We're pretty?" They exchanged a look and burst into laughter.

From the room next door the three men exchanged a look and shrugged, wondering why women were so… weird.

…

"Lucius, no!" Narcissa screamed, her breathing so haggard that she fell from her chair onto the floor and clutched desperately at her own chest. Quickly, her husband aimed his wand at her and her breathing returned, somewhat, to normal.

"There's nothing to be done, Narcissa. It is his will. It is… it is…"

"But why?" she wailed, tears streaming from her eyes. "Why? You have always been a faithful… a faithful servant to him." She bent over and coughed, her hands now spattered with small droplets of red.

Lucius bent and rubbed at her back, slightly alarmed. He had to think about her question. Why was his master killing him? The image of begonias and tiny pieces of charred paper flashed through his mind. "He believes that I'm insane… and that I am a liar, as well."

"In-insane? W-why?" Narcissa asked, trying desperately to breathe.

Lucius stared out the window. "I read something he could not," he muttered, his eyes now trained on his hands… his very mortal hands.

"Read?" Narcissa asked, calming. "Read what?"

"It was a few days ago…" he began, "I was in the garden… and I saw something fluttering and I blasted at it. It thought it was a bird… it was parchment. It was too charred… but I saw it anyway. 'Albus.' It said, Albus, Cissy."

Narcissa turned dazed eyes onto her husband. "I saw it out the window," she muttered. "I saw a flying… something. I thought I had imagined it. I thought… I thought…" She rubbed at her eyes, smearing blood onto her eyelids.

"Shh…" he said, gently, holding her in his arms. "I have… time," he added. "Th-three months, Cissy. We can come up with something, I promise."

"Lu," Narcissa said, using the nickname she so rarely used, "I feel so b-bad. I shouldn't have b-been worrying about D-Draco. I… I need you. Not grandchildren. You. I love you, Lucius. A-and Draco should marry for love. Love…" she said, her eyes rolling into the back of her head, "everyone des… deserves love. I wish…"

"Yes?" her husband prompted, fear dripping in his voice.

"I… wish he'd never w-won. I wish…" her last words came so softly Lucius had to use a pensieve later in order to hear them clearly, "the world was free." And Narcissa Black Malfoy died in her husband's arms, never having seen her grandchildren, or ever knowing how close her final wish was to coming true. When Lucius Malfoy stumbled into his son's living room to be greeted by the most unlikely set of witches and wizards ever, he knew it was time to change his fate and that of the entire world.

A.N.: I had no idea I was going to do that! Helps tie up some loose ends, though.


	35. The Incrimination of Bellatrix

Sold-Chapter 35-The Incrimination of Bellatrix

By Marmalade Fever

A: CMG Malfoys.

B: Sold Draco and Hermione.

Both Dracos looked up at the exact same moment as the sound of footfalls came from the next room. Before anyone could make an attempt to hide, a weary and somewhat stunned-looking Lucius Malfoy entered the room, and then simply stared at the sight of them. He teetered for a moment and his son (b) rushed up to stabilize him. "Father?" he asked, concern etched in his voice. Harry stood, wand withdrawn, but Draco held up a hand.

"It's…" the elder Malfoy began, staring bewilderedly from one face to another, "your mother," he finished. He raised tired hands to his eyes and rubbed at them, blinking uselessly. Then his knees gave out beneath him and the other Draco hurried to help the old man to the couch. "Am I dreaming, Draco?" he asked, turning uncertain eyes between the two identical men. He then looked to Harry, who was still on edge.

"No," his son replied, looking to the others for support. "Father… what about Mother?" he asked.

The elder man stared at his hands. "She… she couldn't handle the news… she's dead, Draco," he whispered, and those who did not know him well were surprised at how very human Lucius Malfoy was, after all.

"Dead," Draco repeated, hardly daring to meet anyone's eyes. "How?"

"Upset… coughing… couldn't breathe… no will left to live…" Lucius let out a shuddery breath. "Couldn't go on without me."

"What happened?" married Draco asked, his emotions reeling, though he knew his own mother was safe. Lucius held up his right fist, which had been, thus far, clenched, and dropped a piece of parchment from it. His son quickly read through it, nostrils flaring. "What is it?" his counterpart asked, and he took the parchment and read it himself. He swore. "After all your years of loyal servitude and that's the thanks you get?"

Lucius looked at him, his eyes unfocused. "I don't feel very well, Draco… I'm seeing double." Quite suddenly the elder man went into a swoon, his head landing unceremoniously in his son's lap.

"What did the letter say?" single Hermione asked, alarmed.

Married Draco cleared his throat. "He's been offered retirement, which is pretty much just a nice way of saying that he's to be killed." He glanced over at his counterpart, who was shaking in silent fury.

Harry sent his fist banging into a side table. "I have to kill him. I have to!" he hissed between clenched teeth.

"We know, Harry," Hermione A said, "that's what the potion's for. The five of us can go back in time and make sure you take the right passage."

"About that…" her counterpart said, uncomfortably, "I don't think the two of you," she gestured to the married couple, "should come along. It would be for the best if you went back to your own dimension, first… to avoid unnecessary complications."

"I agree," Draco added quickly, somewhat fearful of his wife's reaction. The Hermione in question looked as if she were about to object, but didn't. Instead she nodded.

"I suppose you're right," she said. "Once events change, who knows if we'll be able to get back to our own time, never-the-less our own dimension." Her husband let out a sigh of relief.

Harry, who had been staring off in space for a moment, looked up. "I'm not going either," he said, decisively. All looked startled at this. "I've been thinking about it… and I'd like to try my hand at defeating Voldemort in the here and now. Don't worry," he added, as the Hermione from his own dimension began to object, "you and Malfoy can go ahead and change the past. The world is really too far-gone to save. I just want a chance to murder the scumbag before I forget what he's done." He unconsciously fingered the locket he wore around his neck.

"You know," Hermione B said slowly, also looking at the locket, "we never did resolve the whole Lily issue."

"What do you mean?" her counterpart asked.

"Why would V-Voldemort want Lily? Why hasn't he tried harder to find her?"

Harry visibly shuddered. "I had a thought," Draco B said. He hadn't spoken since his father fainted. "Either as bait to lure Potter out of hiding… or perhaps he was planning to perform a familius charm, assuming you don't have a secret keeper, anyway."

"Blood will call blood," Harry murmured, under his breath.

It was at this moment that Lucius stirred, and, with a violent surge of energy, was on his feet, and facing the lot of them. "What's going on?" he demanded. His eyes drifted to his ring finger and it seemed to hit him full-force that his wife was dead. He sunk to his knees, devoid of energy once more.

"It's okay, Father," Draco B said, going to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What's going on?" Lucius asked again, sounding broken. Draco hesitated before going into an explanation about Evander, Lily, the other dimension and Potter. "I…" Lucius looked startled. "Did you say you got a letter from Dumbledore?"

"That's right," his son said, nodding, "from the Dumbledore in the alternate universe."

"And… there were two letters? Because one had to go to each of them?" Lucius asked, clutching at his son's hand.

"Yes," Draco replied, wondering where this was headed.

"I found one," Lucius said. "I blasted it down… and all I could read was Albus." Lucius hesitated. "The Dark Lord couldn't read it… I thought I was going mad."

"It was charmed," his son replied, "so only someone related to Evander or Lily could read it.

Lucius snapped his fingers in the air. "Bellatrix!" he screeched. The rest looked startled.

"What?" Harry asked, now paying full attention to the white-haired man.

"Bellatrix! She… she said she couldn't read it! She lied to the Dark Lord! To incriminate me!"

"Or to save herself!" Harry shouted. The others turned to him. "Don't you see?" he asked. "It was Bellatrix all along! She's the one who sent for Evander and Lily. That's why there haven't been search parties! She wanted to used Lily to find me, to fork me over to Voldemort, so he would favor her! But she didn't tell him her plan, knowing it was too farfetched! She was saving her own skin!"

Lucius bellowed in outrage. "She will pay for what she's done!"

Quite suddenly, Harry turned to Lucius. "I'm planning to defeat Voldemort, will you come with me?"

"I…" Lucius gave a final look to his wedding ring. "I will," he said, clenching his hand into a fist.

A.N.: I know you think this is short, but when I'm writing it, it feels really, really long. (And I type fast.) No updates in the coming week. I'm going on a vacation, but I don't want to.


	36. Good Byes

Sold-Chapter 36-Good Byes

By Marmalade Fever

As Harry and Lucius set themselves up in another room to discuss battle plans, Hermione and Draco A began perfecting the needed wand movements for the trans-dimensional summoning spell, to send them back home. Meanwhile, the other two sat silently around the simmering potion, occasionally stirring it exactly one-quarter turn counter-clockwise.

"So," Draco said after a long pause, staring across the cauldron at Granger, "how do you suggest we stay hidden from our younger selves?"

"Well," she said, at last, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "I was going to suggest we use Harry's cloak… with a good engorgement charm… but now…" she grimaced, "maybe a silencio and a disillusionment charm? I doubt they'll be paying attention to what's behind them… too distracted."

"For our sake, I hope you're right," Draco commented. "I don't want to be on the receiving end of your wand, no matter what your age." Granger blushed, slightly.

"I'm sorry about your mother," she said softly.

"Don't be," Draco said, forcefully. "She's a demented, old bat… She was absolutely bent on getting a grandchild… and… and…" his voice faded into a muffled sob.

"And she was your mother," Granger said, understandingly. "There's nothing wrong with mourning over your loss… it proves you're human."

Draco looked away, trying to blink away a stubborn tear that had escaped his eye. "Doesn't matter," he said. "We're changing the course of history. Soon enough, she'll be back… right as rain and stubborn as an ox."

Granger tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm glad I got a chance to finally know you, Draco Malfoy." Draco looked up and was just about to cup her face with his hand when the potion let off a violent puff of steam. "It's done!" Granger announced, standing up and leaving Draco's side, his hand still poised in mid-air. He silently cursed at the potion's choice of timing. Granger ladled some of the potion and sniffed it. "I think that will do quite nicely." With that she set the ladle back in the cauldron and marched out of the room, a skip in her step. Draco collapsed backward onto the floor, silently throwing a small temper tantrum.

"So close!" he moaned, scowling. A minute or so later, she returned.

"We're having dinner in the kitchen," she announced. "Why are you on the floor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. She offered him a hand and he stood on his feet, not quite meeting her eye.

"No reason," he replied, as she led the way into the kitchen. He noted gleefully that she hadn't dropped his hand. Things were looking up.

The other Hermione was just levitating a large bowl of pasta onto the table as they entered the room. "You really need to go shopping," she commented. "I really had to scrounge to find anything decent to cook with. The only cheese I could find was an especially moldy piece of havarti, and that certainly doesn't go with spaghetti, now does it?"

"Um," Draco began in reply, having never gone grocery shopping in his life, nevertheless tried cooking anything. His counterpart sent him a wink.

"I'll go get Harry and… er… _your_ dad," he said, sweeping off to find the other two men. Draco, Granger, and Mrs. Malfoy sat down at the table to wait. In a minute they all sat together and began to eat.

"Well," Hermione Malfoy said, as they'd finished off the last of the meal, "I guess this is it," she said, somewhat sadly.

Her husband nodded. "Herms and I are going to skip off back to our own dimension in a bit."

Granger looked sullenly down at her plate, blinking. "It was wonderful to meet the two of you," she said through a crackly voice.

Potter looked around and cleared his throat. "Yeah, and we're going to get going as well," he said, gesturing to himself and Draco's father.

"You've come up with a plan, then?" Draco asked, looking skeptically between the two.

"We have, indeed," his father replied. He gave his son a cheeky grin. "Don't worry, Draco. Even if we fail, you'll be fixing it in the end." He drew out his wand and twirled it between his fingers. "Who would have ever thought…" he muttered, "that I'd be setting out to defeat my own master…"

Draco and Hermione Malfoy stood. "Well," Draco A said, "it's been fun."

"Take care of Evander," Granger said, standing up to give the couple a hug.

"And Lily," Harry commented, his hand grasping at the locket that dangled from his neck.

"Good luck, old man," Draco A said, grasping Draco B's shoulder. Then, conspiratorially, he whispered, "You'll get her in the end."

"Cor," Draco commented, "I'm not a second older than you!" Then, quietly, he added, "I hope you're right."

The two Malfoys stepped further away from the table, exchanged a look, withdrew their wands, and, with a violent flash of light, were gone.

Potter and Draco's father stood. "We'd best be leaving, too," Potter said, pulling out his invisibility cloak and resetting the charm he'd used to make himself appear as a stranger, should his cloak fail him.

"What are you going to do?" Granger asked, after blowing her nose.

"Well," Potter said, "Lucius here is going to get us in, acting all obedient-like, and then," Potter smirked in the most evil way imaginable, "you get the picture." He paused before adding, "And be sure to give us a head start before you use that potion. A couple hours should suffice." He smiled genuinely.

Granger stood and approached her friend. "Oh, Harry," she murmured, wrapping him in a tight hug and not appearing to ever want to let go. "Take care of yourself." Draco felt his heart drop into his stomach as he watched the two.

"I will, Hermione, I will," Potter said, giving her a brave smile. He kissed her forehead. "I love you, and I always will."

"I love you, too, Harry," Granger said, violently wiping at her tears. Draco felt extremely sick.

"And Malfoy," Potter said, pulling himself away from Granger and stepping closer to him, "take care of her, will you?" he asked.

"Of course," Draco replied. Then, as Potter shook his hand, all feelings of jealousy seemed to subside.

"Good," Potter said, clenching his teeth.

"Good bye, son," Lucius said, giving Draco the closest thing to a real hug that the old man could muster.

"Good bye, Father." A minute later and Draco and Hermione were he only ones left in the room.

"I hate good byes," Granger muttered, wiping her tears away.

Draco smiled at her wryly, "Well, you don't have to say good bye to me," he said.

"Don't be so sure," she said, sitting down at the table. "Our memories… remember?"

"You'll… miss me, then?" Draco asked, not quite believing his ears.

"Of course," she replied.

"Come on," Draco said, offering her a hand. "Let's get our mind off things. Game of chess?"

Granger gave him a genuine smile. "Sure," she said, and she allowed him to place an arm over her shoulder and lead her into the living room.

A.N.: One more chapter and an epilogue left! Or, at least, that's the plan. They have the slowest moving relationship I've ever written… Good grief, Charlie Brown. (Lol, I went to the Charles Schultz museum a couple days ago.)


	37. Planned and Unplanned

Sold-Chapter 37-Planned and Unplanned

By Marmalade Fever

A.N.: Courting Miss Granger was nominated at Dangerous Liaisons! Please see my profile for details. 

Harry followed Lucius without making a sound. The elder man had now regained much of his previous composure, his back straight as he marched them down the hallway that led to the Dark Lord's antechamber. A few minutes earlier, Harry had watched as Lucius gave the doormen a thorough tongue-lashing. Harry's heart sped faster and faster as the moment he'd waited for all these long years approached.

"Lucius?" a man asked, stepping from the door they had been approaching.

"Adolphus!" Lucius greeted, seemingly in a friendly manner, though Harry noted a slight twitch of the wand-hand over his pocket.

"I hadn't realized you were coming," Adolphus replied, looking uneasy.

"And for good reason," Lucius said, then added jestingly, "I didn't know I was coming either!"

Adolphus tried to smile, though it went sour somewhere in the middle. "Have you… gotten any post today, Lucius?" he asked, now frowning. Harry found the long forgotten words, "no post on Sundays," floating through his memory.

Lucius pretended to rack his memory. "I believe I received some flower seeds... but other than that…" He shook his head.

"Oh," Adolphus said, exhaling, though he immediately began to look a little green around the gills.

"I'll just be going in, then," Lucius replied, sweeping past Adolphus and entering the chamber, Harry only half a step behind. This room was much more richly furnished than the hall they'd just left, and was draped in red and black curtains. In bold letters about the door leading to the throne room was an engraving, "Memento Mori," which, translated, means, "Remember, you will die." Just below was a second caption, "Lasciate ogni speranza, vol ch'entrate," meaning, "abandon hope, all ye who enter here." Harry gulped, but kept his head high as Lucius strode forward, opened the door, and allowed it to swing shut behind Harry.

…

Draco and Granger… Hermione he supposed… had played on game of chess, in which she'd beaten him soundly. She mentioned something about being tutored by Weasley. Draco couldn't imagine why that would help her. Weasley was a dunce. Hermione sighed. "Chess always did give me a head-ache," she said.

Draco nodded. Just then, an idea popped into his head. "I'm going to go use the loo. There are other games in the cabinet over there. You can pick one out if you like." She didn't look especially ecstatic at the prospect, but she nodded and he excused himself. Draco quietly slipped into his office, which was conveniently located next to one of the bathrooms. There he sat down, pulled up parchment, quill and ink, and began to write.

Dear Draco,

There is something that is in your best interest to do, so listen up. After the defeat of the Dark Lord and you have managed to evade any sort of punishment, it will be time to look to your future. Your future, should you choose to accept it, lies in a girl you have thus far hated. You must learn to ignore her bloodline, as well as certain other assets. If you allow her, Hermione Granger will be the love of your life. Yes. Love. Not to mention that you may find her lips to be an ethereal experience. And so I must advise you to ask her on a date. Should she refuse, which is likely, keep trying. Show her this letter if you have to!

Sincerely,

One Who Knows You Better Than You

P.S. If you find this hand-writing at all familiar, I'll trust that you take it as a sign. Believe me when I say it would be a mistake to ignore this letter.

Draco tucked the letter into his pocket and went off to find Hermione for another game.

…

Harry felt anger boil inside him as he laid his eyes on the face of Voldemort. It had been far too long. "Lucius," Voldemort greeted, looking up from the scroll he'd been reading. A sour expression crossed his face. "What brings you here?"

"My Lord," Lucius replied, bowing low, "I wonder if I might have a word with you about Bellatrix."

"Bellatrix, did you say?" Voldemort repeated. His eyes slid to Harry's. "Perhaps it would be more polite to introduce your guest to me first."

"Guest, my Lord?" he asked, sounding sincere enough.

"Whoever you are, come out now or perish," Voldemort warned, aiming his wand directly at Harry.

Harry removed his cloak and folded it carefully before stuffing it in his pocket. He could feel his scar throbbing. "I'd recommend, Tom, to bring the lady forward."

Voldemort frowned. "You wear a concealment charm…" He turned to Lucius. "Very well." He snapped his fingers and, a moment later, Bellatrix appeared. Her face fell noticeably. "Lucius and his guest have something to say about you, Bella."

"Or rather to you," Lucius said. "This is for your sister." He brandished his wand, pointed, and instantly Bellatrix lay lifeless before them.

Voldemort looked unaffected. "I must admit I have been sensing lies from her quite frequently as of late. But you, Lucius… What is this about?" His eyes swept to Harry.

"My Lord, my wife is dead because of Bellatrix's treachery. Her lies led you to believe my insanity, which led to your decision to have me… removed. Narcissa, in her failing health, couldn't handle the news."

"I see," Voldemort replied. "Love is such a weak emotion."

"Is it really, Tom?" Harry asked, his wand in his hand.

"Yes, Harry Potter, it is," Voldemort replied. "Lucius, this is for allowing entrance to The Boy." Lucius screamed as he was hit with a flash of green light and lay as lifeless as Bellatrix.

Harry removed the concealment charm. "I challenge you to a long overdue duel, Tom," he said, ignoring the two fallen Death-eaters.

Voldemort grinned. "I accept." He stood and they bowed to one another.

…

Hermione moved her game piece five spaces forward and grimaced. "Go to Azkaban…" she mumbled. "Again…"

Draco smiled. "I'll sell you my get out of Azkaban free card for one-hundred galleons," he offered.

"I'll take my chances rolling, thank you," Hermione replied. Draco rolled.

"Darn it all! I landed on Diagon Alley," he said, forking over five-hundred galleons to Hermione.

"Thank you," she said cheerfully. "Wizardopoly… who knew?" Just as she was about to roll again, Draco clutched painfully at his arm. "What's wrong?"

He rolled up his sleeve and gazed in surprise at his blank skin. "The Dark Mark… it's gone."

…

Harry, broken, allowed himself to slide to the floor. He'd done it. He'd defeated Voldemort. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he fainted dead away.

…

Hermione took three strides to the potion and brought it forward, setting it in the middle of the game board. "Ready?" she asked.

Draco was suddenly feeling feverish. "Yes… One tablespoon potion, silencio, disillusionment charm…" he muttered. "Get Potter to turn right… somehow."

Hermione nodded and handed him a tablespoonful of the potion and got one for herself as well. "Bottoms up!"

…

Hermione felt a terrible spinning feeling as the liquid slid down her throat. The first thing she became award of as she opened her eyes was that she was running. Why on Earth was she running? She opened her eyes and spotted young Harry ahead of her, but Draco was nowhere to be seen.

…

Draco felt a terrible spinning feeling as the liquid slid down his throat. He opened his eyes and found himself alone in a corridor. In his hand was his wand. Funny… he didn't remember having it there. He moved his hand to his pocket to check and see if the letter he'd written was still there. He looked down. He was wearing different robes… He lifted his hands to his eye level and nearly cried out in alarm. Great Merlin, he was eighteen again! The clincher came as he rolled up his sleeve to find the Dark Mark still in place.

…

Hermione ran forward, realizing quite suddenly that she was wearing her old school robes. Her legs felt limber and her lungs felt healthy as she breathed in and out. Just as suddenly as she'd realized what the heck was going on, Harry stopped and she ran right into him.

"You okay?" he asked, somewhat in a panic.

"I'm fine, Harry," she said, surprised at being addressed.

"Which way?" he asked, his voice even, though he was breathing hard.

"RIGHT!" she cried, so forcefully that Harry was taken aback. "I mean," she rectified, "you go right, I'll go left, and we'll meet up later." Harry looked at her quizzically.

"You sure?" he asked. "Oughtn't we stick together?"

Hermione put on a brave face. "You'll do fine, Harry. I know you will." She gave him a reassuring hug and pushed him off in the right direction. He jogged out of sight. Hermione took in a big breath and smiled as she turned left. She only hoped it was the correct Draco she was headed toward.

…

Draco looked up as he saw a solitary figure heading toward him. "Hermione?" he asked, warily.

"It's me," she answered. "I just sent Harry off the right way."

Draco sighed. "What happened, anyway?" he asked.

"I think…" she said, slowly, "we added a wrong ingredient. Do you… like the results?"

Draco gave her a genuine smile and grasped her hand. "I love them," he said, now looking positively ecstatic. "I've got to do something, now."

Hermione frowned. "You're… leaving?" she asked, sounding disappointed.

"No," he said, shaking his head forcefully. "Miss Granger, will you do me the great honor of being my date at the graduation ball?"

Now it was Hermione turn to beam. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "You had me at sold."

Draco drew her nearer to him and placed a kiss on her forehead. "Won't father be pleased?" he asked, winking.

"Definitely not," she replied, "but I think we can handle him."

Draco drew her nearer still and kissed her nose. "I think… I love you."

Hermione smiled and sealed the gap between them by kissing him squarely on the mouth. They stayed that way for a long five minutes, just happy to finally have gotten together.

"Hermione?" Ron Weasley cried, breaking the two of them apart.

Draco groaned. "Sod off, will you?" he asked.

"You want me to hex him for you?" Weasley continued, sending Draco the kind of glare that meant nothing less than death.

"Ron…" Hermione said, starting to apologize, but she thought better of it. "Harry went that way, why don't you go help him?"

His eyes looked fit to burst out of his head. "What?"

"You heard the lady," Draco said, making waving motions down the hall.

"Again, what?" Weasley repeated.

"Beat it, Wealzebub!" Draco said, pointing down the hall. "The grown-ups are having a moment here."

Ron looked to Hermione for help. "Go on, Ron," she said. "I'll be fine." Slowly, with many backward glances, Weasley went off down the hall. Hermione turned to Draco again. "A biblical insult?" she asked.

"I've been waiting to use that one for about fifteen years," he admitted.

"Oh, no!" Hermione cried, eyes widening.

"What is it?" Draco asked, alarmed.

"I just realized… N.E.W.T.'s are tomorrow and I haven't studied in twenty years!" she cried, gripping his shoulders hard. Draco gave her a weary smile.

"I think you'll pass," he said, patting her arm.

"Are you sur—" she began, but he'd cut her off with a kiss.

The End.

A.N.: Whoohoo! There's an epilogue left, don't worry. Now, if everyone would be so kind as to review and then go to my profile and check out the Dangerous Liaisons Award thing, I'd be very pleased. Aren't you glad the last chapter was actually long?

Disclaimer: Monopoly belongs to Parker Brothers, but Wizardopoly does not… at least, not to my knowledge.


	38. Epilogue

Sold-Epilogue

By Marmalade Fever

Two weeks later Draco escorted a very radiant Hermione Granger to their graduation ball. NEWT's had gone just fine, though she continued to stress over individual questions. After Harry's defeat of Voldemort, all Dark Marks had vanished, leaving it very difficult to accurately condemn Death Eaters. Both Draco and his father were able to escape Azkaban, though they had both been accused.

Absolutely everyone had been shell-shocked when informed by a very frazzled Ron Weasley that he had come across his own best friend snogging freely with Draco Malfoy during the final battle. Most had absolutely refused to believe it, insisting that he had instead been under an extraordinary amount of stress and had dreamed it up. It was only until this night when Draco, in a pair of silver dress robes, entered the ball with Hermione on his arm that everyone finally offered their apologies to Ron. Hermione had her hair in perfect ringlets and stacked on top of her head, making her look extraordinarily grown up… though many also commented that there was something different about her eyes as well, as if she'd seen things not meant to be seen. Draco's eyes also looked worldlier, and there was a certain amount of tenderness evident in the way he guided his date around the dance floor.

Harry Potter was at once very peeved at his comrade for more than obvious reasons. She simply smiled at him in a way that he could only translate as knowingly. She said he'd understand when he was older. Harry argued that he had just defeated Voldemort and she really wasn't entitled to go around accusing him of being naïve, when she was the one who had seemingly skived off from the final battle to snog her own enemy. This had only caused the couple to exchange a look and burst into laughter, making Harry even more confused and angry than ever.

When word got out to Lucius Malfoy that his only son and heir had started dating a muggleborn, and not just any old muggleborn, but Hermione Granger nonetheless, he sent Draco a very nasty letter of warning, to which Draco simply reminded him that he could very easily prove Lucius' guilt in a court of law, while he had a witness in the very same muggleborn his father was overwrought about. That shut the old man up quickly, and he offered his blessing instead.

Only a year later, to the surprise of the wizarding world at large, the couple married at the tender age of nineteen. They immediately ignored the warnings that they were too young, instead exchanging looks that could only mean, "if only they knew we're nearly forty!" Their first child was born not too long after and named Evander Gwydion, though no one could get them to say where they'd come up with the name. The happy family easily bypassed the Malfoy Marriage Contract and lived in comfortable peace together.

Several long years, as well as a few more children, later, the couple found themselves to be thirty-eight years old and, after Hermione figured out the exact date in her head, Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy paid a long overdue visit to the alternate universe to check up on a very different Evander, Hermione, and Draco Malfoy.

The other couple were excited to hear the news of how they had successfully gone back in time without losing their memories, though they pointed out that to them, their good-byes had only occurred three minutes earlier.

Eight months later the long-expected second child of this couple welcomed their daughter to the world. Ellette Narcissa Malfoy grew into a beautiful young woman with long, straight brown hair and gray eyes. Her brother, Evander, married his childhood sweetheart, Lily Potter, at the age of twenty-four, thus saving himself from the consequences of the Malfoy Marriage Contract. (Evander had eventually worked up the courage to ask her out at the age of fifteen, just before she graduated.) Evander and Lily's firstborn daughter, a raven-haired little girl, eventually grew up to marry none other than Ron Weasley's grandson, Perry. Thus, Draco, Hermione, Harry, and Ron Weasley were all, at last, united as relations, sharing a common great-grandchild.

And that, dear readers, is where this story comes to rest. I would like to say that they all lived happily ever after, in both dimensions, but things are never quite that simple in the wizarding world. But what fun would it be if they were?

A.N.: A large thank you to all those who have read and supported not only this story, but its predecessor, over the last year and a half. Thank you to everyone! At this point in time, I do plan to keep writing fanfiction, but maybe not for a while, as I have the worst classes imaginable at the moment. Until next time, bye bye!


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